Full Tilt Divas
by Lilac Papillon
Summary: There are aliens attacking New York City again. There's a psychotic god on the loose who clearly has some issues to work out. You'd think it was Loki - except it's not Loki, and Loki is wearing Tony Stark's suit, and Loki is just as confused as Tony is right now. Best part? The psychotic god they're fighting has Tony Stark's face. Post-Avengers, semi-AU role reversal
1. Prologue

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, AU!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on.**  
Spoilers: **Watch the damn movie if you haven't already. References will be made to the prequel films.**  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **See end of chapter for notes. Enjoy reading!

* * *

It was an unwritten law in most developed countries around the world that the time period known as "rush hour" must be equivalent to a claustrophobia-inducing, Machiavellian and Darwinist humanity.

It was truly an intimidating spectacle to those unfamiliar with rush hour, to see so many vehicles and automobiles lined-up single file, moving at a pace that looked akin to a snail trying to dash. The sound of honks and beeps would flood the crowded streets, followed or accompanied by the occasional angered individual or a dozen, waving their fists outside of their windows or making offensive gestures with the middle digit on their hand.

There were times when it was often a train-wreck, except no trains actually were wrecked – most of the time. While rush hour was brutal and the exchange of insurance numbers were often very much expected, the damage did not often result to the extent of trains getting wrecked because that would probably mean a third-party event being factored in.

New York City was a perfect example of how third-party events get factored in.

Screams and sirens rang clear in the air as people flooded out of a slowly but surely collapsing building. Traffic was an absolute disaster, not because of the amount of people trying to escape the havoc that was being wreaked upon this particularly unlucky part of the whole entire planet known as Earth, but because it was so backed up that people were doing what people do – being idiots, getting out of their vehicles that they had no hope of advancing forward with since everybody was stuck anyway, and running left and right on the streets in the middle of what could probably be classified as an alien invasion in New York City.

An alien invasion of wasp-like, pseudo-cybernetic seven foot creatures, with three pairs of clawed, metal arms, firing what were probably lasers out of what was probably supposed to be their stingers in New York City.

"Will somebody _please_ enlighten me as to what in the name of anything, _anything _that is sacred and holy, _is happening out there?"_

Steve winced at the feedback and volume crackling through the communications device. The super-soldier placed a hand to his ear delicately as he stood back up, re-gripping his shield properly as he responded promptly and obediently. "We aren't sure why they're here just yet, Director, but the Avengers have been assembled and we're on it."

The response was curt, laced with just the right amount of irritation to mark it as personal.

"I hope for the good of everything that exists within our universe, Rogers, that you are _certain_ you're on it," Director Fury's voice practically growled. "I have my agents out there getting their asses handed to them by a bunch of _alien bees _that have, for whatever fathomable reason is beyond us right now, _magically materialized_ out of thin air_..."_

Static could be heard on the other line as a third voice piped up.

"Director?"

"_What?" _

"With all due respect, I think they look more like wasps than – "

"Agent Barton?"

"Yes, sir?"

"With all due respect, I think you should _shut your goddamn mouth."_

"Yes, sir!"

Steve bit his lower lip to avoid protesting the profanity (which would be about as effective as teaching a cat how to bark) as Fury continued.

"New York City has undergone enough damage as it is. The people of New York need to be protected, and so far, we're doing a miserable job at it compared to the last time _somebody_ decided to pay us a visit from Latveria while Reed and his gang were tied up. I want these things contained and I want them eradicated as soon as possible. SHIELD will work on getting these people out of the danger zones, but that does not give you free reign to ignore tackling this situation with the utmost responsibility – _including _Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner. Do I make myself clear?"

The scoff from the other end was very familiar to everyone on the line, and Steve forced himself to bite his lip again in order to not tell the offender to shut up, already _feeling _Fury's barely contained anger in the following words from the head of SHIELD.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Would you like to repeat that for me, _Mr. Stark?" _

"Yeah, yeah, I've got it, Fury."

No response; just very, _very _uneasy silence (amongst, you know, New York City being blown up and people panicking).

The self-proclaimed genius billionaire playboy philanthropist was heard giving an exasperated sigh.

"_Yes, sir."_

Steve decided to choose this time to interrupt before Tony could add anything on, just because he knew Tony liked to get the last word in and now was not the time for this. "We'll do our best, Director."

"Good," was the gruff reply. "Get to it then, Avengers."

As soon as Fury had logged off their communications, Steve spun around to face the terrified, cowering family of three he had just protected from at least three giant wasps, concrete debris, and a flying, burning, tiny little car that didn't look as smart as Tony had called it (though Tony didn't seem to think so either judging from the tone of his voice when he had explained to Steve what these tiny vehicles were and why they even existed). "Listen," Steve began as two SHIELD agents rushed over towards him, crouching down to the eye level of their young daughter. "I need you to follow these people to wherever they'll take you, away from all this. They'll make sure you're safe so as long as you do as they say." He stood up again and faced the agents. "Men, I assume you know where to go?"

The two helmeted, heavily-armoured SHIELD agents replied with simultaneous nods. "Good, evacuate as many as you can," Steve said, and was just about to turn back around and make a mad dash towards where he knew Thor was battling on the crowded, chaotic streets, before he felt something tug at his belt.

When he looked behind him, he was greeted again by the sight of the family's daughter, staring up at him with wide, bright blue eyes, clutching a notebook in her other arm.

"Mr. America?"

If the situation wasn't so dire and in need of attention, Steve might have chuckled, even crouched down and corrected her lightly about how Captain was fine. Instead, he tilted his head curiously as he gazed down at the little girl.

"Er, yes?"

The notebook she had been holding was thrust out towards him with both tiny hands.

"May I have your autograph?"

Something exploded from behind him – at a fair distance, yes, but if it was close enough to hear then it was close enough to warrant concern. Steve's head turned to look at where exactly the damage had taken place, and took note of one of the angry alien wasps shrieking as it flew upwards from the demolition.

He glanced back down at the girl. "I don't think now is exactly the best time," Steve responded with implications of great urgency, hoping that she was old enough to understand.

She bit her bottom lip and blinked, and Steve knew what was coming already. He forced himself to focus instead at the offered coil-bound book being held to his face. There was an abundance of fancy, shiny stickers that sparkled and shimmered in the light that had been slapped on the red cardboard cover, with rainbows and flowers and unicorns and was that a sticker of him with his far leg ripped off so it looked like he was riding on top of Iron Man?

"_Please?" _

That voice and those eyes would probably be the death of him.

The sound of that alien getting really close might be another option for a funeral, though.

The SHIELD agent closest to the girl grabbed her and pulled her back roughly, ready to take a hit for the child. Steve and the other agent whirled around, Captain America readying his shield and the agent readying a large automatic firearm.

Just as the wasp-creature re-opened its mouth to shriek and raise its stinger, it was quickly transformed into a shower of green ooze and scrap metal, with what looked like broken half-wire, half-vein at the joints at the sound of a familiar laser blast. Then, not even a second after its demise, Iron Man was floating behind where the wasp-thing had once been, floating in the air almost nonchalantly. He gave a two-fingered salute towards Steve. "Saw you might need some time to cater to two of your adoring fans!" the synthesized voice of Tony Stark crowed from the red and gold metal suit.

Steve, grateful as he was, was at a loss for her as he opened his mouth and tried to say something, _anything – _but the girl was tugging his belt again, and just when he was about to ask about the second fan, the agent standing next to him had swiftly whipped out and unfolded what looked like a deformed Captain America cartoon caricature from one of his ammunition pockets, looking up towards Steve with a smile on his lips and most likely a hopeful puppy-dog look underneath that dark-tinted visor on his helmet.

Steve cast something of a conflicted half-glare towards Tony, who, as much as he wanted to stick around to see this, simply shrugged.

"You're welcome. Now don't take too long with handing out the John Hancocks, Cap, because I gotta go help Clint and Tasha out with either backup or marriage counseling so I'm probably not gonna be around to save your glorious, patriotic tush again."

And with that, he took off towards a building, leaving Steve to look at the SHIELD agent fumbling for a pen while he spoke through the communication lines. "Clint, Natasha, come in. Where are you two right now?"

Clint's voice was the first to respond with a twitch of static.

"It appears to be the tomb of Tutankhamun, though I might be wrong."

Steve frowned as he finished scribbling his signature down for the SHIELD agent. "The tomb of..._what?"_

Natasha's drawl followed immediately after, intermingled with the faint sound of gunfire and screeches.

"He's wrong. Barton, does it look like there is anything remotely Egyptian-looking in here?"

"Where are you two?" Steve demanded, taking the young girl's notebook next and trying frantically to write on it.

"The exhibit _said_ it was Tutankhamun!" the male voice from over the communication link protested. Two screeches and what sounded like electrocution could be heard in the background. "You saw the sign, we passed by it – "

"Downstairs." Grunting as well as what sounded like something barely metallic being crushed and slammed mixed with the two SHIELD agents' voices. "We passed by the sign _downstairs!"_

Steve did not like having to think while there was absolute pandemonium happening behind him, and a pen not pressing ink onto cardboard happening in front of him. He flipped open the notebook and scribbled on the back of the cover until he saw blue ink emerge, before he flipped the book back around. "Are you two at a museum?"

"No, we're in Cairo."

The pen was clicked, the autograph was signed, and the soldier, feeling his nerves grow tenser by milliseconds, gave an exasperated sigh while the little girl gave this incredibly adorable smile that was just so-out-of-place right now.

"Agent Barton, _please," _Steve begged.

Another one being electrocuted, much closer to Clint this time from the sounds of it.

"Upper floor on that one museum near that one building." Before one of Steve's nerves snapped, Clint quickly added, "Stark knows where it is, don't worry about it."

"That's a tall order even coming from an agent of your clearance level, Agent Barton."

From the upper floor of that one museum near that one building, an arrow Clint had nicknamed The Tazer just missed its target and collided with what looked a rather expensive giant jar, breaking the antique into numerous shards almost instantly with cracking sparks. Clint, looking perturbed, did not even have time to load the other arrow in his hand as he dodged the wasp's stinger nearly impaling him. "Don't take this the wrong way, Captain," the archer grunted, stabbing the arrow straight through the wasp's head before it could yank out its stinger from the ground. He grabbed another from his quiver, satisfaction swelling up inside him as he watched the ripples of electricity throughout the alien. "But how the hell do _you_ even know _my _clearance level?"

"I don't, Agent Barton, but I assume that...one second. Erm, miss, I've already signed your – "

"Can we get married, Mr. America?"

"...oh. Well, uh, er, that's...thank you, that's very sweet of you, miss, but I'm afraid that your mommy and daddy won't be, uh – "

"I know you're really old, Mr. America, but my auntie tells me that age is just a number, and you're really cute."

Tempted to butt into Steve's stuttering in order to request if he could be Captain America's best man for the wedding, Clint simply settled for snickering as he fired an arrow to his upper left, not even checking to see if it hit (and he knows it'll hit even before he hears the shriek and thud of the creature's body, _come on_) as he yanked out the arrow from the head of the creature nearest him and loaded that in, backing up.

He was not going to admit the huge amount of relief that practically washed over him like a tidal wave or something when he found himself back to back with Natasha, who kicked off one of the dozen bodies on the ground near them.

Especially when there were more than a dozen fresh ones flying to the upper floor from a conveniently-placed hole in the ground when Natasha decided it was a good idea to grab an arrow she didn't know was The Bomb. Even more unnerving is how they were starting to form a cluster, and it was very reminiscent of a cloud of mosquitoes – except that was the wrong type of bug, and regardless, Clint and Natasha weren't exactly fond of bugs, especially ones of the out-of-this-world variety.

"There's more coming from where the escalators are," his red-haired partner murmured, pulling out a gun magazine from one of her belt pouches.

Clint felt himself twitch, unsure if he wanted to take his gaze off the ones buzzing and snarling in front of them and looking ready to kamikaze dive any second. He unscrewed the used tip on his arrow.

"Five."

The sound of the magazine clipping into a pistol resonated like music to his ears.

"Six," Natasha corrected.

Quickly reaching into his pocket and pulling out a very specific tip, Clint pressed his lips together before he spoke. "So, you wanna tell me why it seems like the space bugs want to colonize in _here _out of every part of the damn city?" he asked, screwing the new arrow tip on.

Natasha raised a pistol in each hand as they moved in a careful circle, remaining back-to-back. "Foreign energy readings were being given off the moment the wasps came within this museum." She aimed them at two wasps closest to her. "Maybe there's more than meets the eye for one of these trinkets in a glass case."

"Well, my eyes saw everything in here," was Clint's response, and he pressed a button on the new tip before he pulled his bow back. "And I honestly didn't see anything that looked super special other than being attractively shiny."

Natasha didn't even resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"What do you think this is; a jewelry theft?"

Clint would have answered at that moment, except the glass windows behind them chose to completely shatter, and before Clint and Natasha finished turning around (Clint with a brief uttering of "shitwhatthefu – "), there were suddenly laser blasts and small little rockets being fired, followed by brief explosions, the cybernetic creature body count rising, and more very expensive and ancient historical artifacts losing whatever value they held before.

Iron Man once more floated idly behind his fellow Avengers, hand repulsors and shoulder missile holders smoking, and both of them decided that if they could read expressions on a visor, there would definitely be a smug, shit-eating, Tony Stark trademarked grin on it.

"So, let's all just agree that I'm the best pest control there is. Actually, you know what? I wonder if I should invest in that at all – can we actually market that without damaging the company image? Stark Pest Control, it sounds – I can't decide if that sounds cool or – wait, how would we even get that to work? Maybe I should talk to Brucey about that when he just takes a deep breath or something when this all settles down, and wow there's a lot of android bugs in here huh."

Clint couldn't help but glower at Tony as the wasp creatures from the direction of the escalators on the left attempted to make their way past the rubble that crowded their entrance.

"No shit, Sherlock."

Steve's voice rang in their ears at that moment.

"Stark, are you with Agents Romanov and Barton now?"

"They're with me, yes, and we're gonna get quite a party going on up here." The repulsors on Tony's suit pulsed faintly as they whirred. "You should come join us, Cap, it's gonna be a real blast in about a minute or so."

"'Fraid I'll have to turn down that invitation and offer you three my own. All of you need to get out of there; it isn't safe and we need backup, pronto. Romanov, I need you on ground level with me. Barton, relocate but stay on middle ground, and shoot whatever's too close to the civilians whether it's from above or from below. Tony, you need to find Thor and help keep the skies clean."

There was a clamour of thunder, followed by the sound of lightning and justice from the gods descending upon the Earth.

"You know, scrap the Stark Pest Control, actually," Tony began, and shot three wasps' heads that just emerged from the hole on the floor. "I think the Space Viking's got that covered. You _totally _got this covered, right, Prince of the Space Vikings?"

Said Prince of the Space Vikings' voice _rumbled _so much there was feedback through the line, causing everyone to practically wince in unison (except Tony, who, being a genius with incredible foresight, had automatic volume-balancing audio options assigned for Thor and Bruce in his suit's communication links).

"Tony Stark, you are the Man of Iron, Son of the City of New York! Why, then, do you avoid your duties to your realm, to your _entire planet?"_

"Hey, big guy, hang on a sec." Tony ducked as a wasp dived towards him, before he whirled around and practically backhanded the thing's head out the window. "Who said anybody was avoiding anything around here on whatever measurement-based scale you want to put this on? Come on, I'm saving people and trying to control the sudden population of space insects at the same time? And also, I saved Spangles' ass, Robin Hood's ass, and Soviet Russia's ass – don't give me that look, you two. That's a lot of ass, so if you'd like me to help yours out, a 'please' would do quite nicely."

Another flash in the clouds, and bolts of lightning rained down upon New York City angrily.

"I own no mule, Man of Iron – "

"I was talking about your – "

"But your mockery is childish!"

"Junk in the tru – actually, no, forget it." If his voice sounded just slightly more hostile than before, nobody commented on it, probably because everyone knew Tony was not finished talking. "Thor, if your ass is going to be stubborn – let me rephrase that, actually. If you're going to act like a stubborn ass, I'd rather work with the other big guy."

The clamour of the Hulk's roaring added to the noise of police sirens, car alarms going off, and things being smashed.

"You know what, we all know that I play better by myself, right?."

The extent of Steve's patience was shortening quite quickly as evident by his tone.

"Alright, I don't know what happened, but _you two_ need to let go of this stupid little grudge you have."

"I am not holding any bitterness against Tony Stark, Steve Rogers," Thor protested. "It is _he_ who holds resentment against my justifications!"

"Oh, so this is all _my fault _now? What are you gonna do, Thor? Point a finger at me and holler 'he started it' at the top of those space Viking lungs?"

"Tony, you _did _start it."

"Hey, Clint, hey, hey, _hey! _I have just one very important thing to say right now, so listen good." He raised a metal finger. "My hair's greying again. Should I dye my hair black or brown, but like, not regular default MS Paint brown but the dark dark, kinda almost black brown?"

The sharpness of Steve's voice could cut steel.

"Stark, Thor, enough! We'll have a talk about this when we get back to the tower."

Thor was silent. Tony just scoffed.

"Sure thing, dad."

"I mean it, Tony! Howard wouldn't have even bothered with this."

Well, that shut Tony up.

Only momentarily, though, before he opened his mouth again – just as the creatures barged through the rubble and tackled Tony into a glass display behind him. Shards of glass and jewelry were tossed aside dangerously as the wasp buzzed and rummaged through the remains, back of its stinger holding down Iron Man face-down on the floor.

Just before Tony could activate his back repulsors, gunshots were fired, sending the wasp reeling back. It screeched and dove towards its attacker – Natasha, however, was not about to go down easily as she slammed herself towards its center, tackling it to the ground, before placing its head in a choke-hold and promptly firing two rounds into its skull. As it slumped out of her grasp, the redhead stood back up, satisfied, and glanced briefly out the window.

Unfortunately, it was a second longer than she had initially intended to look.

"Guys?"

Tony and Clint (after stepping on one of the wasp's heads) turned to where Natasha was facing. Clint's eyes almost popped out of his sockets as he spun the arrow from earlier in his hand, stepping forward with Tony.

"Seriously, guys, somebody want to tell me why the hell they're coming _here?"_

All three of them quickly cast a glance back to the wasp Natasha had taken care of.

In one of its spluttering claws was what looked like a ring.

A tiny, shiny ring with a symbol on it that was currently pulsing with some sort of light.

"Got this," Tony said, before he snatched the piece of jewelry and dove straight out the window, just as Clint finished off firing an arrow towards the incoming swarm, taking at least five down when the arrow exploded. Tony shot straight through the streets and into the skies, holding the ring up to inspect it. "Hmm, fascinating, doesn't look like anything worth over a thousand that I'd propose to somebody with. JARVIS, run an analysis on this thing."

A window popped up on the helmet's HUD interface. A target encircled the ring in his hand, and data began scrolling through the window. "Sir, this ring is made out of a very strong yet unidentified metallic substance," the British AI responded accordingly. "It also holds very high energy readings."

Tony's eyebrow arched.

"Well, looks like it is worth something. How high are we talking?"

A sub-window popped up with a flowchart and a red line that flew off it. In the corner, a red number fluctuated rapidly. "The energy readings are similar to that of the Tesseract's emissions. It is highly recommended based on SHIELD protocol that this object be classified as dangerously potent and sent to SHIELD for review. Based on its similarity to the Tesseract, it may be capable of – "

"Tony Stark!"

Tony groaned.

"One sec, JARVIS." Thor's face popped up in the other corner of his HUD. "What do you want, He-Man?"

"It is not what I want, but what these creatures want! They have ceased attacking New York City in order to pursue you!"

Curious, Tony actually physically turned around to see if this was the case.

The green burst of light that just _barely _scratched the side of his helmet had come from giant colony that was starting to look as threatening as the Chitauri. Tony cursed in about three different languages as his HUD flickered briefly. "JARVIS, why didn't you tell me we had company?" he demanded.

"I assumed you had known that they were chasing after you."

"Well, I kind of did, that's why I have this damn ring in the first place, but I'd love to know when I'm about to get fried!"

It was Steve this time that shouted his name.

"Tony! You need to fly as far as you can up, away from the city if they are following you for that ring. Then get rid of that thing once you're far enough!"

"Yeah, um, just one question, Spangles." He flew straight up towards the sky anyway, the percentage of his thruster strength rising. _"Where_ am I supposed to get rid of this? We're not exactly taking the hobbits to Isengard here."

"Well, technically, you'd have to set off to Mordor and Mount Doom, and if the movies are to go by anything I don't think you'll be coming back with all your fingers intact."

There was the sound of human skin being slapped and Clint yelping, followed by Natasha's drawl.

"Shut up, Barton."

"What is this 'Isengard' I hear you mortals babble so much about?" Thor questioned, intensity replaced with curiosity in his voice. "I know not of a realm of iron within Yggdrasil – do your powers actually hail from it, Man of Iron?"

The deafening roars and resonating vibrations of the city ceased any more discussion about that.

"JARVIS, zoom into the city and find our buddy with anger management issues."

A projection was brought up in the center of the HUD. Hulk was currently barreling through the streets, cars becoming scattered and becoming hazards that would drop from the sky. His face, twisted with its usual furious rage, looked somewhat urgent as he stared up towards where Tony was flying. "Relax, Green Giant, I'll be back for you eventually," Tony responded, weaving back and forth as green rays shot by him. "Just let me find out where to get rid of this. JARVIS, what is the thruster capacity at?"

"Sir, we are already at 120% at an altitude of – "

"Wait, I got it. Push it up to 150% and activate the internal cooling system. Put it on standby and gradually increase. Activate the anti-UV vision and set its protection up to 100%."

"Sir, would you like me to tell you that this is a terrible idea and a strain on your arc reactor?"

And while he could definitely feel a slight pang in his chest, Tony just frowned. "JARVIS, what have I told you about being redundant? We're not gonna go straight into outer space anyway. We'll just blast it into the sun when we're close enough."

There was a pause from JARVIS. "The force required to do so would require the Unibeam – "

"No, it doesn't, it's _not ready _and while I'd love to anyway, I'd rather not kill myself just yet. Direct all energy not powering the feet and back repulsors to the right hand repulsor!"

"Sir – "

"JARVIS, just do it!"

"I was about to tell you that the ring's energy levels are elevating at an alarming rate."

Tony blinked, and looked down at the very bright ball of light consuming his lower arm.

There was a flash, and Tony couldn't help but shield his vision (despite the UV protection just implemented on time over his visor). The sound of an echoing vacuum filled his ears, and there was something that bothered him about using 'echoing vacuum' to describe a noise, particularly when he was sure he heard it before.

He opened his eyes.

Before him was the swirling nebula of stars within the void of space.

Any thoughts prior to this moment were banished as Tony's blood went cold.

_No. _

_Not this again. _

Anything but_ this._

The wasps were too close behind him if he could hear them next to the noise the portal was making. It was the only two things that mattered right now; the frantic voice of a static-voiced JARVIS warning him to abort, Steve telling him to _get out of there Tony, just throw it in _and the Hulk bellowing almost tragically were lost to his sense of hearing, overpowered by the numbing sense of seeing and realizing that he would not be able to stop on time to avoid missing the portal.

They always say that the second time around, an event or occurrence is not as exciting as it would be the first time seen or performed. You are expectant of what there is to come based on the first experience. Your heart does not beat as fast and you do not long to do things differently.

Yet Tony's heart was probably palpitating like nuts right now, and there were still many things Tony wanted to do at this moment other than _not _going through this again. Call Pepper; hope she picked up this time around, and apologize for everything he did, everything that he was. Call Rhodey; tell him he wouldn't be able to buy him that new car he wanted that he had destroyed a while back while in the Iron Man Suit. Call Steve; tell him he was a better man than he could ever be and he better not screw this up if he died. Call Thor; tell him he was also sorry and that he forgave him for comparing him to his maniacal, spoiled little sibling.

He kind of wished he was more like Thor's brother right now. Surely that guy had better luck going through space and shit than a human would since he had magic, right? He should ask if he called Thor; ask if Thor ever did the space travel stuff the hard way either, how that felt. If it felt as _terrifying _as when Tony had seen it before he had hurled the missile at the Chitauri's mothership.

Maybe that's why Thor's brother was kind of sort of really screwed up in the head.

There wasn't going to be any last-minute on-the-verge-of-death calls to the rest of the Avengers, though. There would only be this damn ring and these damn wasps, and the thought of those being his only company into this was not a comforting one. There might not be Bruce to grab him when he falls, or Steve and Thor to look down at him with relief and glee when he wakes up.

There was just him.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and tumbled straight into the vortex.

* * *

_Alright, now we're thinking with portals!_

_Wrong fandom? Oh, whoops. Continue on, reader!_


	2. Green, Black, and Piss Yellow

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, AU!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on.**  
Spoilers: **Watch the damn movie if you haven't already. References will be made to the prequel films.**  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **See end of chapter for notes. Enjoy reading!

* * *

There were a few things everyone knew about space even if they weren't very educated. One of those was that no matter what people kept feeding to their children simply because it was cute or some other ludicrous justification for taking a step backwards in knowledge enlightenment, the moon was _not _made of cheese. Another thing was that gravity on the moon and in general space was much lighter than that of Earth. If you were an astronaut and your cable to the shuttle was severed, you'd float aimlessly in space and most likely die there.

These were all facts proven by science. Tony Stark was a man of science, and so the moment he decided to go through the portal that had been opened, a hypothesis had been formed. His expectations of what was going to happen to him were based on these facts.

His expectations fell faster than he did as he _crashed _into something metal that blared off a car alarm.

The last time Tony checked, you do not _fall _like that in space (but not because there was no gravity; whoever started that myth should be slapped with a smelly, wet tilapia, and then forced to eat it). And unless mankind finally got off their lazy, incompetent asses and managed to forward through in technology with everything the Jetsons and Star Wars had taught him, there were _no cars _in space.

Based on these observations, Tony came to the most reasonable and, quite frankly, most pleasing conclusion possible:

This was _not_ space.

The alarm mingled with the familiar wails of sirens and the blasts of explosions actually sounded like a blessing to his ears; not exactly like a choir of angels singing from the heavens above, but it was close. Maybe one of the angels had an Ibanez plugged in and the distortion settings amped up all the way to eleven. Maybe all of them did. Wasn't that hell, though? Relief aside, it did sound like hell.

Groaning as he sat up on top of the car he had just brutally crushed beneath him, Tony opened his eyes as his HUD restarted. "JARVIS, thank God," he groused, trying to shake off his dizziness. "We totally just went through a portal and came back scot-free. Remind me to open up all the expensive stuff I have in the liquor cabinets tonight, we gotta celebrate this. Why is it so dark? We weren't going anywhere near the sun, I told you this."

The AI responded just as dryly as ever.

"You also told me that we were not going to go straight into outer space."

That left a taste that was just a smidgeon too bitter in his mouth.

"Very funny," Tony muttered. He rolled his wrists around. "Switch the anti-UV vision off – oh, and the air conditioner, if you don't mind. My nuts are starting to lose feeling."

"Certainly, sir. Also, your lower reproductive regions appear to be in perfectly healthy condition, if that reassures you."

What greeted Tony's eyes first was something he really wished he wasn't so used to seeing.

This part of New York, which looked close to either a carnival or one of the amusement parks, was in complete shambles. Smoke and ash filled the air from a fire nearby what was once a roller coaster, and a street lamp next to him was broken right in half, the giant bulb's filament still flickering dimly within shattered glass. It seemed like everybody had escaped accordingly based on the lack of anyone around – save for those _stupid wasps _and damn it he didn't lose them in space?

With a grunt, Tony stood up and jumped off the car, taking flight right away. He was about to ask JARVIS exactly where they were in the city – before something _whooshed _past him and the wasps were brought down with blue blasts of energy.

Tony blinked. That didn't come from him, but it looked familiar enough to –

Oh. Oh, _hell no._

Who was this idiotic _moron _parading around in the public with _the Iron Man Mark VI armour?_

How did he even _steal it _from the goddamn tower and its state-of-the-art security that would make even the Pentagon green with envy?

Speaking of green, who died, rotted, then came back to life, died again, and made this asshole boss of deciding that the Mark VI should be restyled with a _green, black and piss yellow _paint job?

If Tony had any set idea of was happening, that set idea was reinforced by two very important rules all abided by anyone who was not Tony Stark, and these rules went as followed:

1. You do _not _touch Tony Stark's stuff.  
2. You _do not _touch Tony Stark's stuff.

And yet here was an individual, some nobody since he was _not _Tony Stark, who had obviously touched Tony Stark's stuff.

_Nope,_ this would _not _stand while he was here, charging straight at the imposter with a hand repulsor flexed and ready to fire right about...

There was a swift burst of light from his palm, and Tony watched with more than smug satisfaction as the imposter went reeling off-balance mid-air, crashing straight into a giant truck within the carnival. Upon closer inspection as Tony halted and lowered himself to the pavement, it was a mini-doughnuts truck.

He was tempted to reach for a couple that hadn't touched the ground before there was another flash of light and then a ridiculous amount of pain as Tony toppled to the ground, damaging the asphalt he slid into. New asphalt, he noted as he forced himself up on a knee, trying to shake off the impact and preparing to stand.

A pair of familiar appeared in his vision (except they were green, what the _hell). _Tony lifted his head, and found himself looking straight into what appeared to be a glowing, cloudy orb within the hand repulsor of his Mark VI armour, trails of blue smoke encircling its green, metal fingers, and fading away into the air as they snaked around its arms.

"You know," Tony began, raising a finger. Then he paused. "Actually, yeah, you know what? I kind of don't mind that. It actually looks pretty neat. Like, 'I wanna figure that out' neat. Not sure about why you had to put the suit on Jenny Craig and slim it down, or give it this really unsavoury palette swap, but whatever, I can deal with that too if I have to." He pointed the finger at the imposter with blue slits glowing from its gold visor plate, and it was only then that Tony noticed he also made some stylistic modifications to the gold visage's features. His voice rose. "What I _do _mind is _why _and how the_ hell do you have MY suit?"_

The substance within the Mark VI's palm glowed and swirled dangerously, and the imposter tilted its head to the side curiously. A haughty scoff escaped the figure.

"You will have to excuse me; I fear I do not speak in the language of blatant lies. Or did I hear that correctly? 'Your suit', right? Because this..." He flourished his hand not aimed at Tony towards himself. "Is _my _armour and mine alone, my dear imposter. Granted, with consideration of this version being the latest model, I will admit to not being fully adept just yet, but it's enough that I can certainly cause enough damage to this..." His hand waved dismissively towards Tony. "This lackluster, McDonalds-coloured copy you _dare _claim as your ingenuity's caliber."

Now Tony was on his feet, and his hand repulsor levelled itself right at his newfound enemy's other repulsor.

"Well, you're just in luck, because this 'lackluster, McDonalds-coloured copy' you're looking at is _also _my latest model. I'd be glad to sit down with you over a cup of coffee in jail or something, especially if I want to sue you for every dime you have while discussing the mechanics of it and why yours in comparison sucks. Or, better yet, I could give you a live demo. What do you say?"

The repulsor on the green Mark VI pulsed dangerously again, and a few tendrils of smoke leaked from it. The imposter lowered his head. "I say that your vision is blind in more ways than one," he responded. "Don't you think so?"

The threatening intent dripping from his synthesized, accented voice (and Tony _swore _he'd heard this voice before, but from where?) did nothing to faze the red and gold Iron Man_. _The green one began to step sideways; Tony followed the action almost automatically, and soon enough, both Iron Men were both walking a circular path of caution, an arm outstretched as a defensive and offensive gesture.

The impersonator chuckled. "You know, I must congratulate you. As of now, this looks like the closest in regards of craftsmanship and aesthetics that any person has gotten for replicating this technology – even if I do freely believe that colour choice is a little lacking despite being quite stylish and obviously picked for attention appeal, as is how McDonalds branding works. And really, it is people like you who burden my job with more difficulties than my job should be burdened with."

"Oh, and what job would that be?" Tony shot back, his eye-roll concealed behind his visor. "Being a poser?"

Before the imposter could say anything (or perhaps, fire based on how brilliantly the thing set in his palm glowed), there was a large shadow that suddenly loomed over them.

Both heads looked up in unison to see a particularly heavy-looking, menacing _carousel horse_ spinning straight towards them.

The imposter spun right around and was prepared to fire towards it, but at that moment was tackled down by one of the wasps it had been chasing before. Tony took advantage of this moment to dive out of the way, just as the horse flew straight into Green Poser Guy and the wasp. He stared at the two figures sprawled onto the ground, both dazed, and was about to jab two fingers at them and exclaim "HA!" when he suddenly found himself _pounced on _and then _pummeled _by something that was shredding metal off his armour.

"Well, this is new!" Tony exclaimed, watching his HUD flicker and flash red for immediate danger. "JARVIS, what the hell's riding my back?"

"Sir, it appears that a larger version of the unidentified creatures resembling wasps are attempting to tear your suit apart," was the ever-so-straightforward response, and an image popped up of a rather...oh, oh God, that would _certainly_ count as a larger (and uglier) version of those wasp-creature things (and was it just him, or did it kind of look like a dragon too?) trying to claw its way into his back repulsors.

Thrusters were reactivated as Tony was back in the air, attempting to throw off whatever was gripping onto his back and compromising his suit. He cursed and reached behind him, ignoring JARVIS explaining how various parts of _everything _were beginning to go offline, and managed to grab onto some limb of the alien. Without a second thought, he fired from his repulsor.

The satisfying alien screech he heard was enough to make up for the failure of his back repulsors and falling into the truck, carousel horse, and doughnut remains underneath him. Shoving aside the horse (unicorn, actually, and it was blue and stupid-looking and completely impractical, who would ever dye their horse's hair every colour of the rainbow), Tony sat up. He placed both hands to his damaged helmet and pulled it off, gulping a deep breath of air in before he surveyed his surroundings.

Those weird alien creature things looked like they had finally vanished. The carnival grounds were completely wrecked, and the only people there were a few dozen firemen, police men, and SHIELD agents.

Tony's lips pressed together in a thin line. New York City always got the worst of everything.

There was another alien screech from behind him, intermingled with what sounded like a few off-sounding energy combustion noises unfamiliar to how Tony knew the Mark VI's repulsors sounded like. It still made Tony freeze when he heard the pulsating of Green Poser Guy's suit charging.

"You'll do well not to make any sudden moves, imposter, unless you'd _like_ your likeliness to transform to the likeliness of incinerated ashes," that coy, conniving, accented voice drawled, no longer being phased by any voice modifiers and fully recognizable to Tony now.

Except that…that wouldn't make any sense.

No. _No way._

Because the only face that voice clicked right into place with was the smirk of a dark-haired, pale-skinned, green-eyed immortal _asshole_ who had thrown him out of a window of his own personal, 1000 feet-high snazzy tower the last time they had bantered. And the last thing that Tony wanted to find, as he turned around slowly, was that guy's head in some poor knockoff of his Mark VI armour.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what he saw – save for finally getting a decent haircut and growing out some scruff – a dark-haired, pale-skinned, green-eyed immortal _asshole's_ face who, strangely enough, looked just as shocked and somewhat disgusted as he probably did. His sharp, unnerving glare narrowed, though confusion was still very evident.

"Anthony?" the man hissed. "Would you be willing to explain to me just what the hell are you doing in _my suit?"_

Tony blinked for at least two seconds, trying to process the image in front of him as gears pushed against each other to even grind and just _not stop turning because none of this makes any sense_ and _oh God it's you again what the hell are you doing here I thought He-Man took you back to Planet Norse so why are you here and what the hell do I do?_

He settled for simply letting out a groan and raised his own hand again, hand repulsor aimed to hand repulsor. "Y'know, 'Tony' works perfectly fine. But I think that question is something I probably should be asking you, _Loki."_

The God of Mischief sneered, and that definitely looked more like the crazy brother of Thor that Tony recognized.

"I would rather not give the satisfaction of answering to you."

"Oh?" An eyebrow arched on Tony's face. "Oh, well, now that's just rude. Doth thy mother teacheth her child how to speaketh to thou whom art more awesometh than thee?"

Loki's lips pressed together tightly, and he raised his chin in such a manner that it oozed and leaked self-confidence.

"Villain, I have done _thy_ mother," he purred.

Tony's repulsor whirred as its glow brightened considerably.

"Alright, Shakespeare in My Suit, let's make something clear in case Barton didn't brief you on it while you had him under your control. If your name is not Tony Edward Stark, then you are not allowed to even leave a _smudge_ with the tips of your greasy, bony fingers on whatever belongs to Tony Edward Stark."

It was Loki's turn to arc an eyebrow. He opened his mouth, but Tony's palm became a finger just for a second. "Uh uh, _no, _I am not done talking here. Now, we all know that you've done a whole load of shit that you probably can't clean up, even if you really wanted to clean up after yourself. I don't see that happening anytime soon considering you should have gone back to Space Valhalla or whatever and then they do that thing with the lips and the snake and – okay, that's making me feel kinda sick. Asgard has some screwed-up stuff, and you must really hate it just as much as everything else. But I'd say stealing my suit voids any chance of redemption for you."

"_What_ are you going on about, Stark?" Loki growled.

"I'm going on about how I am going to show you how much it sucks to be you," Tony responded just as threateningly. "Doom tried stealing my stuff before, and it didn't work. Barely, he _almost _compromised everything, but the only way he's ever getting to touch my stuff again is if we switch bodies. You on the other hand – what do _you _know about technology? What do _you _know about our petty and plebeian Earth technology when they do science a little differently in Asgard?"

Loki actually looked surprised for a second. The laugh that came out of his mouth was short and sharp.

"You've gone mad," he breathed.

Tony smirked.

"At this point, there's really only one way to settle this like the civil, diplomatic gentlemen we are, isn't there?"

Whatever Loki was using for his laser emitters began throbbing steadily with light, the cloudiness within the glass shimmering as it practically hissed and whistled.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," the deity seethed.

They fired.

The blast that resulted managed to cause enough shockwave to knock over any remaining lamp posts still standing within the vicinity, break any windows and windshields from the cars in proximity of the two, and a broken fire hydrant began spewing water. Tony gasped as he sat up, trying to blink his vision back and damn it, where was his helmet? When will he ever learn that shooting one repulsor and shooting another repulsor equate to a product that was far from desirable?

He extended his arm to fire back (wherever Loki was, hopefully wherever his hand was pointing), before he realized how numb it felt. Whatever Loki was using to energize his suit would require some tinkering around with in the labs once Tony was done with him.

"That was a dirty move!" the engineer shouted amidst the car alarms.

Loki's groan sounded more irritated than pained.

"We _both _had our visors off, you babbling twit! Unlike yours, however, I have mine within easy access."

There was the sound of another blast, and Tony yelped as he bounced off the pavement and rolled. He grit his teeth as he sat back up, and sure enough, Loki had the visor back on.

"_That _was a dirty move," the synthesized voice drawled from above him.

Tony's lips curved downward, and he shifted his wrist so that his palm was facing upwards.

The blast that shot out barely missed Loki as he flew left of it, much quicker than the speed Tony had thought the Mark VI was capable of. On his feet now, Tony raised both hands and fired shorter blasts. Loki continued to weave back and forth within the air with ease, before he pointed his fist towards Tony. A slot opened in Loki's wrist, and three glowing projectiles shot out, just barely missing Tony as he dived out of the way. On closer inspection as he looked at them embedded in the ground, they appeared to be knives.

Well, that was new.

"Hey, I have an idea," Tony began as he stood back up, and frowned when his left hand repulsor sparked and stopped glowing. "If you promise not to hit my face, this might work out."

Loki just laughed at him again, much to Tony's irritation.

"What have we to work out, Anthony?" he exclaimed. The god in his suit threw his arms to the side, shaking his head. "Look at the state you are in. Look upon yourself; your creation, if what you delude yourself is true. Not only is it falling apart at your hands, but your hands themselves appear to be falling apart. Your back repulsors are damaged from the alien before, so there is no hope of taking our battle to the skies. Your breath is heavy with fatigue, as much as you try desperately to hide it. And yet, all you can worry about is _your face?"_ He chuckled again. "How narcissistic. It's _so_ like you. I should not have expected less simply because you – "

He didn't get to finish as a thin, red beam of light shot just past his arm.

Tony couldn't help but grin as he pictured Loki's face behind the visor, staring down at the laser that had actually managed make a large cut within the gauntlet area – and jumped back to avoid Loki's retaliating blast.

When he looked back up, though, three more green Mark VI's stared back at him with their repulsors outstretched.

Okay, that was also new.

Any trace of intimidation was unnoticed as Tony fired a long blast out of both his hands, attempting to take out all of them at once. He only succeeded in taking down one – it had flickered and vanished, before a small metal ball collapsed to the ground and ceased to illuminate.

Doctor Doom had to have helped out Loki or some shit when he escaped from Asgard. This was the only reasonable explanation.

The shoulders of the Mark VII slid back, and the heat-seeking projectiles were deployed upwards. They all zoomed past the other Loki's (and Tony caught the shimmer of a hologram in each one that was bypassed) towards the Loki furthest to the left. While Loki was certainly fast and had increased his thrusters just enough to turn around and open his palms, it was not enough speed to outrun the tiny little things as they exploded promptly upon impact. Loki spiralled to the ground with a cry, crashing straight into the ground.

The impact shook the area around them, which was surprisingly considering at the altitude he was at calculated with the velocity of his fall, that should not have happened. Maybe Asgardians weighed more than humans, as much as that did not make sense. Tony took this time to place his helmet back on as he walked towards the sizzling heap. He placed a foot right over the dully-glowing triangle of the green chestplate, and held up the only working hand repulsor he had at Loki's head.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that, God of Bullshit," he remarked. "Now, I promise not to hit your face if you be a good little boy and stay right where you are while I call your brother. JARVIS?"

"Sir, it appears Thor cannot be reached."

Tony froze.

"What is your major malfunction, JARVIS?"

"I can assure you that I am being most serious here and not malfunctioning." Thor's face appeared in the side of his screen, and CALL FAILED appeared in red underneath his mugshot.

Tony sighed. "Alright, well, it's Thor," he muttered, ignoring Loki's head lifting up at his brother's name being mentioned. "It took him forever to learn the basic concept of a calculator, so whatever, call – "

"It is not just Thor, sir. All the Avengers are unavailable."

Every of their photos appeared next; Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Clint. Also illuminated in red, and CALL FAILED captioning each one.

"Director Nicholas Fury and SHIELD are also unavailable."

The eye-patched director's steely stare, Agent Hill's stoic visage, and one other agent Tony should really delete from his contacts popped up.

"What about Richards?" he said.

Four photos popped up red.

"Howlett? Summers? Anybody from the band of freaks?"

A good number of photos popped up red.

"Screw it," Tony snapped. "Call every single person on my contacts list and everybody you've ever recorded me calling. Call the pizza place, call a taxi, call the tower, call the lingerie models I had over there yesterday, call everybody!"

The photos scrolled across the HUD, growing smaller and smaller until they were probably only 40x60 pixel thumbnails filling the interface.

Each and every single one of thumbnails were lit with red.

"I am sorry, sir," JARVIS said when Tony did not say anything, and it meant more to the engineer than he would admit to the clever, supportive artificial intelligence.

"It's beyond me why this is happening. We're not out-of-area, we're in New York, phone systems work universally – wait, universal number." Tony's eyes lit up. "Three digits, all uniform throughout almost every country in the world. We can get through SHIELD by contacting the popo first. JARVIS – "

The ground suddenly shook again, and Tony froze as he looked down at Loki, who was still under his foot and staring straight ahead of him.

"Dude, if you're starting Ragnarok, I'm gonna have to ask you to stop _right now._ What would Thor say?"

There was a rather loud grunt from behind him, and only then did Tony realize that there was a giant shadow looming over them.

Of course the Hulk would want to come back to smash Loki up a second time when he stole any of Tony's stuff; Bruce and him were brethren of science, and they appreciated each other's contributions and research. Most of the time. Good man, Bruce. However, Thor would probably change the Norse prophecies and bring down Ragnarok himself if they killed Loki. Tony turned his head around to face his friend...

Only to suddenly have a _giant fist _slam his body into the ground.

Gasping and coughing as he popped open his mask's visor, Tony stared up towards his blurring surroundings as his heart hammered furiously. He could faintly hear the sound of a helicopter, and this was confirmed when a light shone straight into his face. He could hear the Hulk stomping towards him, just make out the gigantic silhouette looming over him, hair blowing as the helicopter was landing, and Tony forced himself to speak, despite his chest hurting severely and the taste of copper at his tongue.

"Bruce...it's me..."

He saw another silhouette, glinting off light from its armour. He knew this one was Loki, most likely sneering down at him from the visor, the visor of the armour he stole from him, that he absolutely defiled and vandalized with his sorcery, and damn it, none of this was fair, and why did_ Bruce..._

"When...did you grow your hair..." Tony rasped, just before everything was consumed by black.

* * *

_So, where do I start off beginning to explain what's going on here?_

_This fic is based off a set of role reversal Loki and Iron Man swaps in the form of art, fanfics, and photomanipulations that have been floating around the internet. I had this idea, though; rather than just have an alternate universe, what if somebody from the main universe got thrown into that alternate universe?_

_If you'd like to see some of the concepts from what appears in this fic (and will appear in this fic) in physical form, search the "Full Tilt Divas" tag on Tumblr and you should find something. I'd also like to thank everybody aboard the S.S. Frostiron who are brilliant writers, artists, and GIF/Photoshop makers for inspiring me, and in particular seizure7, who drew some wonderful concept art of the role reversal during its early inception when Hella suggested it._

_Thanks for reading, and I hope I've got you on board!_


	3. Titanium Gold Alloy

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on.**  
Spoilers: **How have you not seen this movie yet what is wrong with you DO IT**  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **See end of chapter for notes. Enjoy reading!

* * *

Tony woke up to find himself in a fluorescent bulb-lit, fairly-sized glass case.

A _glass case._

Tony Stark was not a stranger to jail or being imprisoned, contrary to popular belief (Afghanistan excluded, though he did _not _want to be reminded of Afghanistan right now). Now and then, back in his younger days, he and his MIT friends (or classmates, hacking competitors, frat brothers, drinking buddies, whatever he called them) would do enough while inebriated to land themselves a night in a cold, primitive-looking cell and one phone call out. It didn't happen very often, though, and Tony Stark being Tony Stark would simply buy his way out while shooting some flippant comments at police officers, prison guards, and a few ugly-looking mugs behind cages.

The fourth most interesting part about this particular incarceration (if it was even _that)_, however, was an IV in his arm and his chest considerably in less pain than before – though his head still pounded and his eyelids were heavy and there was still an awful taste of something in his mouth.

Yep, sounded just like college.

The third was having that arm and his other as well as his legs _shackled to the table._

Which was _bolted to the floor._

Okay, fine. Duct tape and silk ties around bedposts still sounded like college. Metal could totally work too, whatever.

The second most interesting part was that the Iron Man armour had also been taken off, and Tony could not suppress the _groan _that escaped his mouth out of sheer frustration because if they damaged _anything _major on that suit that hadn't been damaged enough already (like severely compromise JARVIS, that was a _big _no-no), somebody was going to pay. Whether it was in money, in blood, or in compromising a few security systems was undecided since the perpetrator was unknown as of yet.

Or maybe not because he recognized this sort of cage and he recognized the outside.

The first and foremost interesting part about all of this was how he was in the vicinity of _SHIELD _because this damn well looked like something SHIELD would do. He was most likely in the Helicarrier since none of the floors designated for SHIELD within the tower looked like this, and he doubted Fury would want him to go anywhere near the bases (which recovered fairly quickly, surprisingly and suspiciously enough). "Why?" was the big question that Tony wanted answered as soon as possible as he forced himself up as much as he could to look forward.

That person looking through the glass at him with an eye-patch over one of his steely grey eyes was what convinced Tony that maybe that could wait when he was fully awake, since whatever drugs these assholes in SHIELD injected him with were either making him hallucinate or he was still knocked out.

Scratch that earlier realization that he was in SHIELD being the first and foremost interesting part about all of this. _This_ was the first and foremost interesting part about all of this.

Because the last time Tony saw this man's face any time recently was when it popped up in his failed contacts to SHIELD, right next to Agent Hill and a few others, and it reminded him that he _still _had to delete him off his contacts list since...

"This doesn't look like heaven," Tony rasped, not hiding any trace of confusion on his wide-eyed face.

The man made the most familiar gesture of pressing his lips together in a thin line, placing his hands behind his back.

"I can assure you, it won't feel a _thing _like heaven."

Maybe Tony should pinch himself.

Or dig his fingernails deep into his palm; they needed trimming anyway so this would be a suitable substitution to a pinch.

_Ow shit._

Oh, okay, no it didn't, because there that guy was, still standing there looking as calmly pissed off as he usually did around Tony, except instead of wearing a standard suit like every other FBI/CIA/MIB stereotype ever, he was giving his best impression of Fury with an eye-patch and a heavy-looking leather coat that were probably covering a shitload of weapons on that SHIELD agent suit with all those buckles and straps and crap.

"Well, I definitely don't feel all that great," Tony began slowly, feeling himself trying to sit up more to just _stare _at what was in front of him, trying to humour the drugs (it _had _to be a hallucination). "But since it doesn't hurt to breathe – "

"Don't beat around the bush,"the man interjected, raising his chin impatiently._ "_We have a _lot _of things we need to go over with you."

"Why? Better question: what the hell are _you _doing here? Because whatever I'm getting a timeout for with SHIELD cannot compare to _you _being here, so whatever SHIELD wants from me is gonna have to wait_. _Frankly, I just woke up a while ago in your guys' fishbowl with no idea what's going except last I remember Dr. Jekyll's Mr. Hyde was this close to squashing me flatter than – "

"Oh, you can thank him for even waking up," the ghost interrupted once more, tone callous. "Out of the sheer goodness of his heart – or maybe out of guilt that even 'Mr. Hyde' could cause _that much damage_ to _your kind – _Dr. Olson somehow found room to take pity on you and a few of your ribs." The man narrowed his visible left eye as he paced around the glass, two agents entering from the sliding, armoured doors behind him. "The medical reports seem like you're sandbagging, but we're onto your game, _Mr. Stark, _so consider yourself lucky_. _Should you have been hit any harder, your lungs would've been punctured." His gaze darkened. "Humans don't often survive having important organs stabbed, though – as you probably already know from _Agent Fury."_

Tony squinted.

If that was a hologram it was a _damn _good one – and he had seen Tupac's and Freddie Mercury's and this one from Japan of this green-haired cartoon character or something, those were decent – but it still wouldn't make sense as to why _he _was here, because Loki –

_Loki._

"I'm gonna hope that He Who Pimped My Suit Green doesn't know how to make zombies," Tony called out. "Unless you're _him."_

A wry smirk now from the hologram/hopefully-not-zombie/Loki.

"You can thank Mr. Lawson too, actually. He was the one who insisted we take great liberty and care in the removal of the suit you were wearing so he could examine it."

No.

_No._

_Fuck _no.

Before Tony could even get to the part in his rage-addled ranting about how he was going to find that little shit and wring his scrawny neck no matter if he died by Thor's hand, he found himself not screaming in anger at how SHIELD royally screwed up, but screaming out of sheer _pain _as he felt electricity coarse through his body.

The back of his head hit the table with an unpleasant _clunk, _and Tony mumbled something incoherently as he tried to regain focus.

"Get him dressed."

"Why – "

"Ask Lawson, something about 'some shred of dignity'."

"Sir, why are we following Lawson's orders again?"

"Because we have no way of getting in touch with this guy's brother until he comes down here for _him._ Lawson is the only one who's gonna make him talk. Cuff him, bring him up to Floor 90, and make sure that you don't leave Lawson unattended."

Tony felt himself being unshackled at his arms and legs. The IV was removed, and he was roughly dragged off the bed for a shirt to be pulled down over his head. A new pair of rather heavy bindings replaced the earlier ones, placed around both of his wrists. "You try anything, and double that voltage will be running through your veins," that voice said again, and Tony grit his teeth as he stared at the ghost, both of the agents grabbing him roughly by each arm and leading him out of the glass case.

"You're not _him," _Tony growled. He jutted out his head. "Even if you're not here right now, Loki, just don't. Don't take a steaming pile of crap all over his image like this." He squirmed, trying to force the agents' grips off him, to no avail as he found a third agent pointing a gun straight as his face. "He's supposed to be _dead! _You _killed _him!"

"He probably will one day with the amount of stupid things he pulls, believe me."

"But you're not _Coulson!"_

Everyone stopped.

"No, I'm not Coulson," the ghost admitted.

The one-eyed glare returned very quickly as the doors began to close.

"I'm _Director _Coulson. Remember it."

* * *

The elevator ride to wherever Floor 90 was seemed almost painfully slow before Tony realized that this was the tower.

_His _tower.

He did _not _remember the lower floors looking like that, though. But any tower with this many floors had to be Tony Stark's tower.

Clearly, Loki just had no regard for invading anybody's personal space or taking things that were not his. And why should he? The man was a _villain. _

Villains weren't known for their virtues, they were known for their vices. Heroes were known for their virtues, not their vices. It's just how things worked when it boiled down to getting the news out to people, spreading the word, and having people, especially kids, look up to you with big, adoring smiles and telling you that they wanted to be just like you when they grew up.

No kid should ever be just like Tony when they grew up if they wanted virtue, not vice.

On second thought, no kid should ever be just like _Loki _when they grow up, especially when there was no room for virtue with the guy.

No, not at all, especially when they arrived on Floor 90 and the elevator doors opened.

Tony's eyes bulged.

This wasn't his lab.

No, this wasn't _any _laboratory that Tony and Pepper had glanced over through blueprints. They had checked every floor before, during, and after construction on everything during the building process of Stark Tower – and even after, when Tony had decided that this is where the Avengers could station. Ten of the top floors dedicated to research and development, dedicated to all the experiments big or small, dangerous or not-as-dangerous that Bruce or Tony had access to.

One of these labs had each and every of Tony's suits imported from his home in Malibu to here, where they were lined up in glass against the walls, there not only for display but for whenever they were needed.

This lab had only four lined up.

And yes, all of them had that stupid green paint job.

And right in the center of the lavish but simple laboratory lit by moderate fluorescent lighting, was Loki standing with his hands behind his back, wearing a mint-coloured dress shirt, a green and yellow tie, and a black waistcoat, and looking every bit as smug and dangerous as Tony remembered.

"Stark," Loki drawled, and lowered his gaze, smirk still intact. "So nice of you to drop by expectedly, for once." His eyes shifted to the side, towards one of the guards holding Tony. "Gentlemen, you're all free to leave now. Reward yourself for arriving here in his company still with every limb intact or something, I can handle it from here."

Tony could feel the two next to him tense, and the one behind him holding the large gun lowering it.

"Director Coulson forbids you to be left alone in the presence of Anthony Stark."

The smirk from Loki's face vanished.

"And what of _my _presence? Do you not think Coulson would look out for my well-being if he were to allow Stark in _my _presence? If any person on this planet and beyond that should kill me, the director is going to make sure it's from _his_ hands one day." The god sighed. "Do you doubt the shackles around his wrist, capable of sending what probably is an inhumane number of volts throughout his body? Do you doubt the security systems set up throughout this tower, linked to SHIELD's emergency floors I gave you whenever crisis is eminent? Do you doubt my caliber, which built the security systems within here, more quickly and more efficiently than a team of your technologists could?" The dark-haired man flourished a hand towards the suits lined up against the walls. "Do you forget who I am?"

Tony couldn't help but scoff, turning around to face the agent behind him.

"Yeah, he's a god. He's not gonna let anyone forget that, believe me."

Loki eyeballed him curiously, before he shot the guards a withering glare that Tony could also vouch for if anyone asked. With some hesitation but no further questions, they returned back inside the elevator. The doors closed.

"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" Tony snapped as Loki exhaled, walking over to the desk in the center of the room. "First you take my suit, now you take the tower, and now you take my credit. What gives?"

Loki could have batted an eyelash at him with the brief glance he threw towards Tony. Tony rolled his eyes back in retaliation. "Fine, better question. Where is everybody? Where the hell is _Thor?_ If you did _anything _to them – "

"My brother's whereabouts are not of your concern, Stark."

"Uh, contrary to your belief, your brother's whereabouts _are _my concern, Romulus." He pointed a finger at Loki, debating whether or not he should point the index finger on the hand attached to the hand he held up now. "With the shit going down right now, I think it'd be nice to be filled in on what's on your agenda."

Loki clicked his tongue as he pressed a few buttons on rhe keyboards. "Do enlighten me about this shit, if you don't mind, because rest assured, you won't be going anywhere anytime soon while you remain in my proximity."

"Certainly, O Unenlightened One," Tony continued. "First, Mother Nature decides it's high time we get a swarm of angry robotic killer wasps in the heart of New York. Then, you go around in what looks like one of my suits blowing stuff up and manipulating people to the point where now, Coulson is back from the dead, and he's a zombie who thinks he's Fury. And then, all _this._" The billionaire stepped forward, expression dark. "What is your deal, and just what exactly are you plotting so evilly in that sick little head of yours?"

"Anthony, _shut up_ and stop making such stupid jokes based solely on your title of mischief," Loki interjected impatiently. "It's not cute anymore."

Tony's eyebrows arched. Loki turned to him with a testing scowl, patiently awaiting the rebuttal.

A look of consideration crossed Tony's face.

"You thought it was cute?"

Loki looked nonplussed.

"VALI, have our guest take a seat."

Something suddenly grasped at Tony's shirt collar, and Tony found himself being pulled back by a whirring robotic arm – wait, was that DUM-E? Was that _his _DUM-E? When and _why_ did Loki need _DUM-E_ out of all his things, and how'd he get the robot this strong? (Magic. Of course. It's _always_ magic for these kind of explanations.) He was dragged downwards into a chair nearby, forcing himself to look towards Loki casting him a sly glance.

"If you even so much as attempt to stand, I'll have VALI tamper with your new wrist jewelry until your brain has been fried."

He watched as a thinner metal arm (when did Loki add extensions?) attached itself to the shackles.

"Gee, don't I feel right at home," Tony deadpanned back. "Also, 'new'?"

Loki typed something else, and two holographic screens popped up. He looked to the screen left of his vision, and tapped his finger at the center of it without hesitation.

The lights dimmed, the glow of the monitors and holograms illuminating the room a mixture of blue and green. A panel in the floor opened, and Tony could feel his fingernails digging back into his palms again as he saw his suit – _his suit, _still damaged, dented in the front thanks to rage-blinded Bruce (who he was going to have a _long _talk with when he found him) – standing in its own glass enclosing.

To top it off, Loki dangled two loops that were once around Tony's wrists off of the tip of a finger.

"You slimy _bastard."_

Loki was beaming now as he set down the Mark VII's wrist bands.

"Charming words out of a thief. I like how your copy uses jewelry, by the way."

The glass slid open with a hiss, and Loki's smile did not waver as another robot (was that U? Oh, damn it, he got U too?) approached the armour. "NARFI, connect into the armour with a circuit and boot up its backup power. But do try to be delicate with it, I spent a ridiculous amount of effort urging Coulson and SHIELD to make sure not to – "

Sparks flew and Tony and Loki both winced as one of the wires was yanked roughly, and the eyes and light repulsors on the suit lit up.

"Damage anything," Loki finished through clenched teeth.

U (or NARFI, as Loki was calling it now) simply meeped at its new master. A long, weary sigh left Loki's lips. "There was a reason you were Not Another Ridiculously Faulty Intelligence, and it's not because you're not_ not_ another ridiculously faulty intelligence. Please take that into consideration for the future."

Tony almost jumped as DUM-E (or VALI, where the hell did Loki get these names?) spluttered abruptly, sparking briefly before smoke began seeping out of it. The engineer couldn't resist the urge to slip in a quip.

"Looks like the math teacher didn't teach it double negatives in elementary school."

The sound of Loki's groan was a lovely if not dangerous sound to relish in hearing (as was the sight of Loki's palm finding his head). It was the one thing Tony enjoyed from him before Loki decided to act.

In which instead of blasting him with some kind of Incendio, Loki pulled up more holographic screens around the desk with one hand and used his other to deftly tap a few buttons on his keyboard, booting up two more monitors. He continued typing rapidly while he swept through images loaded on a holographic browser floating in front of his face.

"SIGYN?"

"Yes, Master?"

Tony's eyes boggled at the female voice that echoed in the lab.

Oh, crap. Oh, no. _Not _JARVIS.

Anybody else but _JARVIS. _

"Initiate code twenty-eight-seventy-five."

Wait, _what?_

"Done, Master. The audio feed has been disabled for SHIELD's security footage. Shall I also initiate code twenty-eight-seventy-four?"

A chuckle. "No, no, let's leave the video running so I don't have Coulson's breath on the back of my neck as he strangles me. You remember Mr. Stark, don't you, SIGYN?"

"I do, Master. Shall I pull up his file?"

Loki gave a disapproving tut, shaking his head. "I'm slightly disappointed, SIGYN. I would have thought you would've had it open already."

"Foresight was not programmed within me, Master."

How the hell did _Loki _know how to –

"Excuses fall short on me when your programming is self-learning so that you _know _very well I expect foresight. Regardless, select the file and run it in the background. Perform scans on our guest's shiny armour, as well as any of the energy signatures he is currently emitting. See if they match, and add whatever details you uncover within his file – not SHIELD's file, though, not yet, just our personal file of him since the last visit, if you please."

"Right away, Master."

Loki shot a smirk towards the flabbergasted (and _seething)_ Tony sat and held down. "You've met SIGYN before, haven't you? It was after I made that joke that went something like 'that's not sorcery, Mr. Stark, that's my wife'."

"I am humbled by your compliments as always, Master."

The god raised a brow. "Don't be cheeky, SIGYN, you know I did not program you to have humility or emotions."

"I love you too, Master."

"Just keep running the scans."

Tony took a deep breath in, trying very hard not to throw the chair he was sitting on straight at Loki as the man enlarged the browser in front of him.

"Now, knowing that you know something about the energy source my suits run on, I took great measures to avoid using its magic and opt for digging straight into your suit's security systems." And maybe it was Tony's eyes deceiving him, but there was definitely some appreciation mingled with cockiness in that look. "Let me commend you on the intricacy of how they were built, for the record – just this once. I did not have the impression of you having such a capacity to figure all of what I found out from your short time here on planet Earth, but expectations are always such fickle things and I'm pleasantly surprised that you refuse to be held down by them."

Tony stared at him with great offense.

Loki smirked wryly. "Just this once. From there, bypassing and temporarily overwriting any commands for the emergency power supply or a reboot input was not all that difficult to figure out once everything was meticulously unwoven. I was tempted to leave your digital nervous system programmed within the suit untouched, only out of curiosity to see how it would compare with SIGYN, insightful girl she is, but it provided more resistance than I would have liked. Oh, while we're on the topic of your security systems, what possessed you to name your security protocol lock-down initiative 'Danger, Will Robinson'?"

The look on Tony's face did not even begin to describe the term "mind blown".

This was unbelievable.

This couldn't be _real._

This _had _to be an illusion he had conjured, a complete nightmare.

Because how did, of all the villains out there, did _Loki _have such a great grasp on _this stuff?_

Because in Tony's nightmares (and yes, Loki had given him nightmares, who wouldn't when you were _this close _to hitting pavement on the streets of New York?), Loki, while he could be terrifying, was not like _this._ His hair wasn't that short, he never had facial hair, he didn't wear normal Earth clothes, and he certainly did not possess this knowledge that should be familiar to him, Bruce, Doom, Pym, Richards – hell, anybody else. But _not Loki._

Loki let out an amused chuckle, and his eyes lit up in this way that's not entirely as twisted as before, but the green of his irises glimmered with that _irritating _confidence he was _oozing_ with.

"Fascinating how it all looks once you've gotten it to its raw state." He placed a hand in one of his pants pockets, pacing behind the desk. "I don't doubt that SHIELD has definitely scanned you while you were in the armour already, just because they _are _SHIELD and they are the textbook definition of paranoid, but I'm hoping I can find whatever they couldn't find when I made great liberties to obtain this shell. Which reminds me..."

He stopped, eyes glancing back at a monitor, and he practically beckoned it to come to him with an outstretched hand. An eyebrow was raised again, and he looked back at Tony with that intrigue that was about ready to break Tony's resolve.

"Oooh, so you _did_ use titanium-gold alloy."

And there it was, the final straw.

"But, again, I only said I would commend you once so – "

"I give up," Tony blurted out.

Loki's eyebrows returned to their original position. They might have even furrowed as he lowered his eyelids.

"_What?" _he hissed.

Tony hadn't even blinked, looking at VALI holding him down, then NARFI who had something plugged into his suit and was practically _hacking it_, and then right back at Loki.

"You heard me, Green Eyes. This, all of _this..." _He moved his head erratically as though to compensate for lack of arm movement, then returned to his regular stare towards his captor. "This. Is. _Weird. _There is no way to measure how much weird all of this is made out of and I'm not gonna lie to you. I'm really not; you're the God of the Lies, and my mind is melting right now. This is _freaking me out, _so you know what? Before my neurological senses completely plug up and I end up having an aneurysm, I'm gonna throw in the towel."

He almost threw his arms up in the air in defeat, before he remembered that they were still bound, so he settled for opening his hands wide in a "letting go" gesture.

"There, you happy now? You got what you wanted, you have that suit, and you pissed me off. Now snap your fingers or something and make it all go away. Give me some red shoes so I can click my heels and say 'there's no place like home'. Hell, throw me out the damn window again and watch me land face-first and turn into a pancake of blood, guts, and titanium-gold alloy which I didn't even _think _you knew anything about."

The weight of his glare and his words must have made some sort of an impact on the Norse deity, whose stare was boring into him with disbelief. Then, his face scrunched up, his nostrils flared and he gave the most resistant scowl Tony had ever seen.

"_No," _Loki sneered.

If Tony could Hulk out (without fear of being electrocuted to his death), _this _would have been the moment it would have happened.

"What?"

Loki's lips were pursed tightly, until he responded, "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I had stuttered."

Silence.

"_WHY?"_ Tony finally balked, lunging forward towards the rather frustrated-looking Loki, only to be tugged down awkwardly by the furiously bleeping and blooping machine behind him.

"Why? Because _you _don't give up that easily!" the man seethed, jabbing a finger towards Stark as he shoved aside any holographic screens in front of him, stepping off the desk and approaching Tony. "Stark, I have you exactly where I want you after so damn long of our attempts to re-capture you after you escaped from SHIELD, and you – _you_ will flail your white banner of surrender just like_ that?_ How _dare _you. I will not stand for this mockery, Anthony Stark, as tempting as it is to take your offer up on returning that favour of falling _sixty-four stories down_ after being tossed like a ragdoll out of _my own window._"

Tony opened his mouth but was cut off when Loki raised a hand. "Uh uh, _no, _I am not yet finished nor will I allow you the pleasure of your annoying interruptions. I admit, I had ulterior motives for you other than wondering how in the name of _you _did you manage to duplicate my art form with such haste and talent."

Then, Loki's eyes widened.

"Or...maybe this is an illusion. How _else _would you be apprehended with such ease?"

The anger dwindled slightly in place of dissatisfaction.

"Oh. I'm a fool, aren't I? This...it's obvious. You used magic."

Tony just _gaped _at him now.

"This isn't you absorbing knowledge on our 'petty and plebeian Earthling technology' in a span of seven days since you've wreaked havoc, this is Asgardian sorcery," Loki practically scoffed, looking almost dismayed. "And for all I know, perhaps this is all one elaborate illusion that you've conjured out of – oh, I must be going mad."

An eyebrow on Tony's face lowered in the most scrutinizing manner.

Loki's shoulders heaved. His tone became thick, confidential; any trace of lighthearted, cocksure aloofness no longer there.

"If your brother is to be believed, then there is no guarantee that I can trust you. But you are the only one who seems to know the things I want to know. And, if you have that suit, and _this..._"

Then, Loki reached forward, pressing his fingers against the blue glow emitting from the black shirt on Tony's chest, and Tony froze, tempted to bash his head forward into Loki's own until Loki spoke again.

"I don't know what this is and surely it _has _to be emitting some form of energy. But all this confirms that you know _exactly _what is wrong with the substance that powers my own."

His gaze became cold again.

"SIGYN, progress of the scans?"

"100% around five minutes ago, Master."

Loki's head raised slightly, an inquisitive frown on his features.

"SIGYN, I had pulled up stats on this suit about a minute ago. Why have you delayed informing me earlier that you had completed the analyses and added it to Stark's file?"

"Master, your guest's energy readings and biological structure do not match up with the data recorded from alias Anthony Stark, Norse God of Chaos and Calamity, filename Egotistical Flash-Gimmicks Supervillain."

Tony didn't even flinch when the hand was withdrawn from his chest.

Loki was fully standing upright, tension evident in his posture. Both he and Tony had whipped their heads in the direction of the large browser that popped up next to the red and gold Iron Man that had depicted...

Tony?

"_What?"_ both of them gasped.

And then everything went straight to hell as the green and blue monitors began flashing red and sirens began sounding off. Boxes of WARNING: INTRUDER ALERT popped up on every screen, and the robot that had held down Tony bleeped and let go of both his shirt collar – and the shackles around his wrists, which sparked before they _clicked, _and Tony was wise to toss them off as soon as that happened. He watched as they crackled with electricity on the ground, before he glanced towards VALI, spinning around in circles as though unsure of what to do.

While Loki began belting out specific, hasty orders for SIGYN to initiate lockdown on the whole building, Tony bolted up, trying to examine the digital file pulled up covered in numerous alert boxes.

He was about to start sweeping them aside before he was roughly grabbed by the cheeks, and now things were definitely starting to look comfortably uncomfortable in familiarity as he found himself looking back at a rather upset and angry Loki.

"What did you _do?" _the god snapped.

Tony slapped his hand away. "I farted, obviously," he drawled. "What the hell do you mean 'what did I do'? I didn't do a thing!"

At that moment, the sirens chose to be replaced by a rather loud, electric guitar-heavy AC/DC track.

Loki looked murderous.

Tony raised his hands.

"Look, I _swear _it wasn't me!"

"This has _you _written all over it!"

"You know, it really does, actually, but there's more important questions you need to answer right now, Green Eyes! Like for example – " Tony's eyes shifted to the screen next to him. _"Why_ do you have a file of me?"

"Well, apparently, you are not 'you'! What are you doing that confused my AI, Anthony?"

The hand was back, except now it was around Tony's throat.

"Because you fail to feel immortal in my grasp and my patience has worn thin," he whispered dangerously. His grip tightened just enough for Tony to gag. "So _tell me, _if you're not here right now and perhaps I'm holding a clone,where you really are!"

"Master?"

"_WHAT?" _

"The Egotistical Flash-Gimmicks Supervillain has just teleported into the laboratory near the door."

Loki and Tony simultaneously turned towards the door, before they let their jaws drop and eyes pop open in unison.

Because there at the door, contrary to what Tony thought he was seeing, was _himself. _

It was _him. _

Except it wasn't because he was himself yet there he was too, dressed up in all this dark red and black, gold-trimmed, zippered, strapped, belts-and-buckles leather crap that looked like the stuff _Loki _should be wearing, and his hair wasn't slicked up and it was stupidly long and tied back in some ridiculous I-don't-know-what-direction-each-strand-is-even-going-in ponytail, and his face was _clean-shaven _and he looked like his mind had completely shut down with their minds and _why am I standing there looking like Loki _was the first thought that finally seeped into Tony's brain as he tilted his head out of sheer disbelief.

Tony looked towards Loki at the same time Loki looked towards him, both dumbfounded, before they turned back to face the other Tony standing at the door.

And just as the drums finished and lead straight into the chorus, Other Tony _snarled, _something Tony had never seen himself do before (clean-shaven to boot), and flexed a hand towards them.

Both of them went reeling back with a yelp as red, orange, and yellow sparks exploded in their face.

* * *

_This was actually a tougher chapter to write because I had this one written even before Chapter 1, so I had to make some changes to tenses and how things had progressed based on what actually ended up happening. I tend to write down jots for ideas even if they don't follow in order, and sometimes these jots turn into random parts of the fic itself._

_I also feel like I made Tony cave in too easily. I feel like Tony would not go down without a fight, even if he was in a realm of illusions conjured up by Loki. But given the circumstances, maybe it could work. I'm still on the fence about it, though._

_But hey we got two new characters (sort of, and three if you included Loki's AI) we're introduced to! Yay? _

_Thank you for all the follows and the encouragement!_


	4. Egotistical Flash Gimmicks Supervillain

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on.**  
Spoilers: **If you stay long enough for the credits, you see the villain to Guardians of the Galaxy. Stay longer, and you see a brick joke involving Arabic food. If all of this sounds new to you, you _need _to see this movie already.**  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **See end of chapter for notes. Enjoy reading!

* * *

The impact sent Loki further back than Tony, causing the god to fly back and crash into something that sounded like it had a lot of circuits and metal. Tony was somewhat luckier; he had landed on the floor right next to the center desk in the room. He didn't even look to see whether or not Loki was still alive (of course he would be, the guy was a _god) _as he forced himself up, grabbing the chair first before he was on both his feet and looking back at his suit.

Conveniently, NARFI was still plugged into it rather than rolling in circles like its robotic sibling was doing. Granted, it probably was not supposed to be plugged in while there was shit going down, but Tony was pretty thankful for this, actually.

What he wasn't thankful for was when he looked up and just _barely _missed what looked like a ball of fire flying past his face, heat temperature rising rapidly when it whizzed by, before making impact with a wall and exploding.

He turned back to see the other Tony's hand clenching into a fist. And really, it was _beyond_ weird to watch yourself look _pissed to high hell _with flames swirling into your now-open palm without help from any sort of energy emitter or repulsor.

Hands fumbled across the desk, and Tony managed to duck behind the desk and dodge another fireball, holding one of the Mark VII bands. "Input code Alpha-India one: 'Daddy's Home'!" Tony shouted, clasping it right away onto a wrist. "Boot up emergency power supply; overwrite and disable anything inputted after date oh-six thirteen twenty-twelve!"

He took a deep breath in while NARFI gave a robotic shriek and recoiled from the still-powered armour, before continuing.

"JARVIS! If you're there, if you can hear me, get your systems kicked in _right now _and get whatever you can on me!"

The wristband's lights blinked, and the relief that ran through his bones helped boost his confidence as Tony bolted back up on his feet, one arm outstretched as his gauntlet flew to it and assembled itself in record time. Feeling accomplished at how well everything had factored out, Tony pointed his left arm back with a grin that –

Left arm.

The left arm's laser repulsor was still damaged.

Tony's grin fell.

"Well_, _shit."

And the realization that he essentially made a mistake equivalent to forgetting to carry a number while subtracting gave_ more_ than ample opportunity for Other Tony to direct a hand towards _him._

Tony groaned as he saw sparks and smoke once more, crashing into the wall before falling face-first onto the ground. Head and various other parts of his body hurting, he forced himself to sit up, just in time to see a pair of gold-plated boots finish stepping towards him.

Tony looked up at _himself, _and he froze completely.

Because his own face with his own damn eyes and his own damn _everything_ was staring down at him with this puzzled, indiscernible look that Tony wished would not creep him out as much as it did.

The doppelganger knelt slowly, the AC/DC track blaring in his ears.

**_And I was shakin' at the knees..._**

Tony could not stop himself from breathing raggedly as he watched Other Tony's eyes linger to his chest, the arc reactor pulsing from under a black shirt. He watched himself place his hand to the reactor, fingers pressed upon it.

**_Could I come again, please__..._**

He watched himself tap the object in rhythm to the four power chords that followed that line, lifting a brow curiously at it. Then, he focused his gaze back to Tony, and Tony watched his eyes right in front of his own eyes (which sounded really weird, but not as much as the next part) morph from brown to a red that reminded him of volcanic magma.

**_Yeah, the ladies were too kind..._**

He watched himself purse his lips tightly into this dry, lopsided smirk, and then he felt fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt but more importantly into his chest and _grasp _the arc reactor as his heart rate doubled and, oh God, if he was ever going to kill himself, this was _not _how he imagined doing it at _all._

**_You've been..._**

"STARK!"

Both Tonies looked up towards the voice.

It was Other Tony who was sent flying back as a blast of blue hit him square in the face, and it was really weird to hear yourself scream but not having, you know, _you _actually screaming and having it echo painfully in your own ears.

It was the least of Tony's concerns, though, as he saw a rather disheveled Loki standing right in front of one of his personal green suits, on top of a familiar platform, holding what looked like a button switch in one hand and gripping a strange, pulsating blue crystal trailing glimmering smoke in the other outstretched arm.

"You have a _lot _of explaining to do," Loki growled, before he pressed the button.

The AC/DC track was silenced, the crystal and remote were dropped, and the green Mark VI duplicate was arranged onto Loki's body even before Other Tony finally stood up. The modified visor closed around Loki's head, eye slots on it pulsing green before they faded to blue. An indescribable cloudiness began formulating within the chestplate and hand emitters, slowly but eventually lighting it up.

It was almost magical in contrast to how it should have worked.

He wasn't sure if the bemused scoff that left his – well, Other Tony's _sneer _– was Other Tony reading his mind since and laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all (they had the same mind anyway, since both of them were Tony Stark, right?). Except, even though it was ridiculous, it was _happening _and goddamn it he still couldn't figure out _why was there a clone of him dressed up like Loki?_

Wait. That could be it, actually.

Oh, shit. That was totally it. _He _was Loki.

Well, no, not really; Other Tony was Loki. The legit Loki; the crazy megalomaniac sent from outer space with his army of aliens to take over the world.

And Green Eyes over there who decided to be Green Poser Guy again?

He _wasn't _Loki. He just so happened to look a hell of a lot like him with that pale-as-pale-could-get skin, that dark-as-dark-could-be hair, and those green-as-green-could-tint eyes.

He was Loki's good twin.

That's it. That _had _to be it. They're identical Asgardian Norse God twins, and Loki Loki was the evil twin. The freakishly techno-savvy Loki was the one not abandoned because he was good and not evil. That's why Loki Loki was adopted. And in order to not be compared to his twin brother because Loki seemed to hate being compared to any of his family members, he had taken on the guise of Tony Stark because clearly, he thought Tony Stark looked sexy and awesome enough to copy even for a second, especially if he was stealing his colour scheme now. (Copying Tony Stark seemed like a sentiment both of the twins shared, come to think of it, and it was sort of flattering.)

There. Tony Stark had finally figured out the mystery of the mythological Norse God of Mischief and Lies' screwed-up family issues and adoption.

Tony Stark also decided that it was also time to kiss the last fragments of his sanity good-bye as he was raised off the ground and held up by the Norse God of Mischief and Lies disguised as him.

Evil Twin Loki looked like he was trying to decide whether or not he was going to crush his head until Tony's brains seeped out of his ears, and again, really unnerving to see that kind of expression on your face. Tony forced himself to look elsewhere, like how the hell these Asgardian clothes worked – and noted the smooth gem emitting a blue glow at the center of that gold chest armour.

It appeared that the "not" option was in favour as the other Tony's eyes darted forward, and he lifted Tony higher before Tony could think more on it.

"Alright, well, first things first, Man of Iron – _you're_ gonna explain to _me_ what in every Hell _this_ is," Evil Twin Loki drawled in Tony Stark's perfect voice and tone, giving Tony a rough shake (and causing Tony to curse in protest). "Why do you have this...what was the term? Oh, right, this _poser _in your research and robotics facilities?"

Good Twin Loki in the Green Poser Guy Mark VI raised his arm, aiming a hand repulsor towards Evil Twin Loki disguised as Tony Stark.

"It is one of your Asgardian sorcery tricks, is it not?" the synthesized voice inquired suspiciously. "I will not have you make a fool out of me this time around, Anthony. I can see right through your lies – "

"Right, like I know how to make doppelgangers of myself," Evil Twin Loki interjected in perfect Stark Snark™. He shrugged, still holding Tony by the back of his neck like he was some incredibly light and unappreciated stuffed animal. "I mean, I _wish _I knew, do not get me wrong, but I just can't. I am very flattered that you think my capabilities are of that level – really, I am."

Other Tony gave a short laugh.

"My thanks to you, Lawson. And you can choose to believe me on that or not, I'm not holding it against you."

His voice began to rise before fury spiked its volume and twisted his facial features.

"Actually, doesn't really matter, we've all got more important things to ask ourselves, like for example WHY in the Nine Realms is there some RIP-OFF of_ me_ in your _overcompensated mortal labs?"_

"Oh, you're good."

The voice – essentially the same but much calmer and strained – had come from Tony. It seemed like it threw off Good Twin Loki as he tilted his helmeted head briefly. Evil Twin Loki, on the other hand, glared fiercely at him – and, because it just could _not_ be said enough times to get across how it was really weird having, you know, _your face_ glare angrily back at _you_ like the person with your face is ready to shred you apart...

"Well, you're doing terrific work at being me so far," Tony continued, the sound of his own voice (from _his _own vocal chords and throat) almost relaxing, if not struggling against the painful grip. "Best impression of me I've seen yet. Bravo!" He raised both his hands to start clapping. "I mean, really, I think this kind of makes up for that time you chucked me off my tower. And launched an alien invasion on the world, that too. Which, you know, _great job_ again bringing another one here. I can see clearly Asgardian justice ain't all it's cracked up to be if you're back – "

Good Twin Loki didn't have time to react quickly enough when his Evil Twin chucked Tony straight towards him, knocking him off the suiting-up stage (as somebody once called it, who was it? Not important because _pain_). Good Twin Loki managed to kick in the thrusters at the soles of his boots to float up, with Tony practically dangling from his hold.

"Is it insulting me?" Tony's more irritated voice said, and both of them lifted their heads towards Other Tony who was really Evil Twin Loki (this was the _only plausible explanation, _Tony reminded himself) floating off the ground now, sparks dancing at his fingertips. "Is that _thing _insulting me?"

"Uh, I have a name, you know," Tony retorted. "And in case you didn't realize it because you're too busy paying more attention to Iron Poser here, it's kinda rude to refer to human beings 'things'. Have you not pissed off a bunch of feminists before? Like, I'm pretty sure the Valkyries are worse than the women's studies college kids."

For whatever reason, particularly when Tony had said "human being", Other Tony had glowered, before his eyes widened and a wide grin suddenly crossed Other Tony's lips. Another short laugh left his mouth.

"Oh, sweetpea. I think I've figured it out." He nodded towards Tony, though his gaze was directed to Loki (Good Twin Loki, not just Loki but Good Twin Loki). "Did you, somehow, by your Midgardian Earthy-like alchemy sorcery technology something-y that I still have to figure out, try to replicate me for your own purposes? Were you that lonely when I wasn't blowing up New York, casting my oh-so-evil voodoo magic on your pathetic, groveling race?"

Other Tony just managed to barely dodge six glowing knives fired at him that shredded through what looked like a work-in-progress chest plate. It prompted a chuckle out of the Evil Twin.

"Missed me!"

The slot in the wrists of Green Poser Guy's armour closed.

"In no way than one," Tony heard Loki growl.

"I'm surprised you can still do that, actually, since normally, sharp pointy objects don't exactly glow like that. In this realm anyway. I might even be impressed if my level of care wasn't equivalent to the value you know as zero. But I think you're – what's the expression? Oh, yeah, 'a little low on the juice'."

No response came out of the suit. Other Tony's smirk grew wider.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes." Loki tilted his head almost cockily, challenging him. "Are you finally going to tell me _why, _Stark?"

"Ha, yeah, like I'm just going to _tell you_. But...maybe we can strike a bargain. Quid pro quo, if that means what the mortals have been saying it means." Other Tony pointed back at Tony, smile disappearing. "First thing on the table: what is that _thing_ on that thing's chest? You do realize it's pretty much the only thing keeping that clone alive, right?"

Tony stiffened.

"I don't know, and I'm not inclined to care right now," Green Poser Guy replied coolly.

"Oh, _pft,_ don't lie, it doesn't work that well with you as it does for me." Other Tony raised his chin confidently. "Lucas Lawson, based on our relationship so far, I think I can safely say from what I know about you – "

"You _don't_ know me," Iron Poser snapped, tone harsh and threatening.

Other Tony glowered, eyes flickering red again as he responded just as venomously.

"And neither do _you."_

There was an uneasy silence that lingered in the air shortly after that.

Iron Poser lifted his arm back up. "I would have you get out of my sight, but the last time I said that, in verbatim, I had things destroyed under my own nose before SIGYN kindly informed me of your remaining presence within my home."

Other Tony shrugged.

"Hey, you didn't say anything about leaving."

"Then I think you should do a little more research on our Earthly idioms. Contrary to what you believe, I grow weary of your tricks and deceptions since – well, it doesn't work that well with me as it does for you."

He opened his hand, and Tony could hear that odd sound it made when it was charging, the smoke that emitted from that crystal before seeping out slowly.

"So you shall pardon me for being more blunt this time." Iron Poser lowered his head. "Get the _hell_ out of my lab, Stark, or I will have to evict you from it with my own metal hands."

Other Tony's eyes glinted dangerously as his grin grew.

"Try me, Man of Iron."

"Um, guys?"

Good Twin Loki and Evil Twin Loki watched as Tony released his hold of the green Mark VI, wincing only slightly when his feet made impact with the floor. He stood up, dusting himself off. "Look, I understand you two are having a domestic feud right now, but can we stop calling him Stark, please?" He placed his hands on his chest. "First off: I am Tony Stark." He pointed at Other Tony. "Not him. He's a poser. Second off: I am Iron Man." He pointed at Good Twin Loki. "Not him. He's also a poser. We've established this multiple times, don't worry."

The Loki twins (currently fraternal rather than identical) looked at him dryly, before exchanging glances.

Tony raised his hands innocently as he stepped back, towards the center table and his suit.

"I just wanted to get that off my chest because it was bugging me."

He watched Evil Twin Loki turn his attention back to his Good Twin with a dumbfounded scoff.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Hey, I'm being serious right now, Loki!" Tony barked, stopping to take a step forward and jab his titanium-alloy gloved finger towards his other self. "Knock it off and drop the act!"

Green Poser Guy seemed to startle at the name being called out, focusing back on Tony.

Other Tony, however, looked _jarred, _and a little offended.

Tony smirked as he retraced his steps backwards.

"Gotcha, Mullet Boy. Now, do us all a favour here, and get my face off of yours, please? It's not something I say often because given the right circumstances, I'd allow you to put your face on mine, but these aren't the right circumstances and it's like they say, stop pretending to be me because you ain't me, or something like that. You're not fooling anyone here – "

He was immediately cut off as Other Tony snapped a finger towards him, and Tony yelped as a swift column of flame shot up from the ground, stumbling back and smacking into VALI – who had finally stopped running in circles.

"I'm pretty sure the only person in this room you're fooling is _yourself," _Other Tony growled, fingers curling outwards into a raised palm again as he turned towards Tony. "And no offense, but while I'm here, you _will _call me Anthony."

Before he could do anything else, the strange sound of the Iron Poser Mark VI's repulsors sounded off, and the same type of blast from the crystal before hit Other Tony directly in the chest, hurling him back into a table with equipment on it. Iron Poser had taken flight now, aiming a repulsor straight at him.

Tony tried to use this opportunity to run towards the center desk.

The charging sound of that damn copy was all he needed to stop right where he was and drop his arms to the side.

"Not another step, 'Stark'."

Tony glared towards Iron Poser and the left repulsor aimed straight at him. He was about to make a snide comment on how _we already discussed this, Buttercup, he's not me _before his groan could be heard from the other side of the lab. Other Tony tossed a power drill and half of the table aside as he stood back up.

"Oh, come on, sweetpea," the magic-powered Tony said. "That was just – "

Another energy blast fired out of Iron Poser's right repulsor, visor's eyes still focused on Tony. Smoke clouded the air as Other Tony propped himself on one knee.

"Rude and not to mention completely – "

Well, one more energy blast apparently couldn't hurt, or so Iron Poser here had decided.

"Unnecessary," Other Tony coughed, wiping a trail saliva and blood off his mouth. "If this is how you make any of your guests feel, well, gee, don't I feel right at home."

Tony couldn't help but twitch at that.

The repulsor light aimed at Other Tony glowed again.

"Stark. You arrived here uninvited – "

"Aw, I thought you liked – "

"And you are going to depart here – "

"Surprises."

"This instant – "

"Everyone loves surprises!"

"Because if _any_ part of this lab is drastically decimated, I _will _leave you in SHIELD's hands."

Other Tony's feet lifted off the ground, an amber glow flickering in his clenched fists.

"Really? That went _so well _last time, especially with –what was that mortal's name again? 'Agent' or something?"

"His name was _Nicholas."_

"Right, tomato to-mah-to, shit and crap. Whatever, the stupidly loud one who swore a lot."

"ENOUGH!"

Tony stepped back, not just to get closer to the desk, but out of instinct that this was not going to end well.

Iron Loki had turned his head towards Other Tony, repulsor humming dangerously, tendrils of smoke wrapping around his arm. The visor opened, and Loki's expression was definitely competing against Bruce when he was trying to resist the Hulk for poster image of repressed anger.

"This is my final warning,_ Anthony," _the god seethed, eyes narrowed._ "_Do _not _mistake this for mercy, because I am_ not_ in a jesting mood and I am _not _going to entertain you."

Tony's hand fumbled around the desk as he reached over the top, desperately trying to find his other band while keeping his eyes on the current situation.

A playful pout danced on Other Tony's lips.

"That hurts, you know. It pains me somewhere, deep down within the massive pile of apathy I hold."

"_Leave."_

Oh, this was not going to end well at _all. _

"And your mortal antics?" Other Tony chuckled. _"So_ entertaining. It's almost _adorable. _I don't even think you realize how entertaining you can be with a stick up your – "

"I said _leave!" _Loki snapped.

At that moment, Other Tony won the poster image for not-repressed anger as amusement was instantly replaced by utter and raw _rage._

"Not until I get _ANSWERS!"_ Other Tony screamed.

"Then give me _MINE!" _

They thrust their arms forward, and Tony dove behind the desk.

Blue and red energy collided against each other, and Tony's eardrums rang with the sound of an aftermath explosion and shattering glass. The lab shook, and the noise of metal and flesh smacking onto the floor was what prompted him to bolt back up and grab the other wristband.

"JARVIS!" Tony shouted again, just as his doppelganger rose back on his feet, broken table leg in his hand, and glowered towards him. "Right arm _now!_"

Before the wristband even began to blink, the table leg went flying towards Tony's head.

Tony made a quick mental note in his throbbing skull to look into becoming a cyborg one day so he could potentially just bleed out his suit when he needed it, right before everything became black once again.

* * *

_Evil!Tony is interesting to play around with so far. You could say he's a lot more moodier than Tony is, but he definitely doesn't know when to shut his mouth either. Originally, this fight scene wasn't supposed to last as long, but I figured since the suit was there, Tony would try to take advantage of the situation. Props to my lovely readers for being incredibly astute and observant of these things and giving me those "hey, that's a good idea!" or "oh my goodness they're catching on I ADORE YOU ALL" feelings._

_You'll notice that in the heat of the moment, the twin labelling returned to the classifications of just Other Tony and even just plain old Loki. When your face is on somebody else and they're acting almost exactly like you (except much more mentally unstable), I imagine you'd stop thinking too hard about it to go with the simpler classifications, especially when shit's going down. What's going to happen once Tony wakes up? Is the twin thing the correct answer? Stay tuned!_


	5. I'm Not in Kansas Anymore

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on.**  
Spoilers: **You should know by now.**  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **See end of chapter for notes. Enjoy reading!

* * *

When Tony came to, ignoring the absolute amount of _agony _that shot through his skull as consciousness returned to him, he noted his gauntlets had been removed (delicately or at least in fixable pieces, he hoped), and he wasn't on the cold, hard surface of the laboratory's floor that he had been in earlier. It also was not in a glass case, or in something that made it obvious that SHIELD did the interior decorating.

No, it was on a black couch – square, modern-feeling, leather, surprisingly comfortable – in what looked like the lounge of this building. The walls were painted a dark grey, lit up by some quaint-looking fluorescent bulb-lit lights on the walls that had green lampshades and what looked like snakes coiling around the brass handles. A large glass aquarium behind the couch clearly had painstaking effort put into glamourizing it; the thing almost looked like a miniature futuristic kingdom. The castle within it reminding Tony of a bunch of church organ pipes put together and while it bugged him, the structure was symmetrical and aesthetically pleasing.

The tank housed many types of vibrant, colourful fish and what looked like a rather exotic specimen of an eel. He wasn't sure what kind exactly since he didn't give two shits about marine biology, though it looked really cool and he wouldn't mind knowing what type of eel it –

"_Enchelycore pardalis."_

Tony felt his blood go cold.

"Also known as the dragon moray eel."

Pulse racing, Tony turned around in hopes that it would be the Good Twin Loki he'd find.

It seemed to be. The man was wearing the same rumpled green shirt (were his cuffs unbuttoned? Totally unbuttoned), black waistcoat from before draping lazily from his hunched over figure on a barstool, tie's whereabouts unknown. He looked like he'd been stood up at the most classiest, expensive restaurant and had waited hopefully (hopelessly?) until closing, just in case his date would ever arrive.

It was actually kind of sort of no it was definitely really sad, even if it was Loki. He should probably say something.

"Wouldn't it eat the other fish?"

Not what he had in mind of breaking the ice.

However, Loki shrugged.

"It happens."

Fair enough. Tony sat up on the couch, twitching slightly and yelping freely as a bag of something slipped off his head and onto his lap (oh _God _that was cold, what the hell was – ice pack, right, getting hit in the head with a piece of wood lugged at you by, if it hadn't been Loki's evil twin,_ then your own Evil Twin)_. "Where am I?" he asked, getting the simplest questions out of the way first as he placed the bag back on the spot where his head throbbed most.

Loki blinked, lack of expression being – for lack of better explanation – the only expression on his visage.

"My lounge."

Tony nodded, pursing his lips as he absorbed this information, processing it and trying not to _freak out_ _again _and do something he'd regret (which prompted him to wonder how effective would throwing a smushy ice pack straight at a Norse god's face be before he could book it). Then he saw what was in Loki's hand.

"Are you drinking a whole bottle of _scotch?"_

Another emotionless blink. Loki looked to the hand gripping the neck of single malt whiskey. He looked back up towards Tony detachedly.

"Yes." About ten seconds later, he added, "Would you care for some?"

The nod was practically automatic, even though Tony was tempted to speak up about _role reversal _and _quit stealing my lines that's not cool and it never was_. Loki let out an exasperated sigh as he slid off the stool. Tony stood up and almost stumbled over his own feet as he walked towards the stools, while Loki finished his trek behind the desk and pulled out two tumblers. He raised his brow towards Tony. "On the rocks?"

Again, an automatic nod. Tony couldn't even muster any strength or wit to make some double entendre about that, or ask where and when did Loki learn how to bartend. He wasn't even sure why he had given up on his twin theory and was referring to Good Twin Loki as Loki, just as Loki finished pouring liquor into his own tumbler.

Both of them picked their glasses up, and placed empty ones back on the counter not even five seconds afterwards at the same time.

It was Tony who broke the silence again.

"So, how come I didn't wake up in the glass case this time – "

"Because you're not on SHIELD's floor – "

"Which begs the question – "

"_Raises _the question." Loki held up a hand practically right in front of Tony's mouth. "'Begging the question' is an entirely different thing; a fallacy, nothing more."

Tony freely rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you knew English better than I did."

Tony could barely detect the corner of Loki's eye twitching as the corner of Loki's mouth curved sardonically.

"Finally, something we can both agree on."

Tony narrowed his gaze. Loki's smirk stayed as he waved a hand around him almost nonchalantly.

"If your question pertains to how SHIELD has not apprehended you once more despite having floors within this building, it's because I had my AI remove our signatures from the security systems." Before Tony could even open his mouth, Loki swiftly continued. "I am certain they are on Floor 90 as we speak – or were."

Unpleasant flashbacks of Fury or SHIELD agents strolling right on into his many buildings and homes caused Tony to frown.

"They're gonna find you," he retorted, hopeful.

Loki scoffed, smirk fading.

"Do not look down at me. I've instructed SIGYN to program a fake energy signature of mine and Stark's from one of my houses a few hours distance from this city." Before Tony could speak up about _why _he was _still _referring to _that imposter _as him, the dark-haired man poured himself another glass. "We should be fine until the morning."

Tony cast a look outside at the lit-up windows of the buildings within New York City, the skies dark and dotted with a half-moon. "How long until that?" Tony murmured, holding out his own empty tumbler.

The liquor was given without much hesitation.

"Well, it's almost midnight. That would be the start of morning – but I have confidence in myself, and I have confidence in SIGYN."

It was Tony's turn to scoff. He raised his tumbler.

"To overconfidence."

It was Loki's turn to freely roll his eyes as he lifted his.

"To underestimation."

The glasses clinked, and they drank. Empty ones were placed back on the counter in unison once more.

Tony couldn't help but cock an eyebrow towards the god. "I gotta hand it to you, Iron Poser," he muttered, glancing back down at the ice in his cup as he swirled it around. "I never actually thought I would end up sharing scotch – good scotch too, by the way, you've earned a smidgeon of my respect for that – with you on one of the highest floors of a very tall building."

A wry chuckle left Loki's lips.

"That you have yourself to blame for. You never did accept my offer on our first encounter."

Tony just _stared _at him. Loki took this as something else, however, and his features softened.

"No," Loki corrected bleakly. _"Not you." _

Tony bit his lower lip to stop himself from echoing _finally something we can both agree on _as the deity sitting across from him ruffled a hand through his tousled hair, slender fingers gripping his front skull. "But your physical make-up, your DNA; it had matched his if any trace – I obtained his DNA sample from the last time he came here, his traces of magic were _written _within his DNA. The concept of it – how this alien, foreign energy that you thrive on can leave behind deoxyribonucleic acid – it _fascinates _me. You practically _leaked _it so, _so_ easily, and it infuriates me beyond my own comfort that I have no grasp of how it even _works."_

His eyes glinted, and he looked back up at Tony.

"Unless...unless you _are_ Asgardian magic incarnate. To think, a whole vessel of foreign science and things that could split the Earth into perfect halves, and..." He paused, and that brief, barely detectable light in his eyes faded as he glanced back to his empty glass. "Except _you _aren't. You're _human;_ the medical reports were not tampered with, and you're...you're not _you. _You're not _him._"

Tony wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that – one because that sentence sounded _really_ incorrect (and he was tempted to say _oh I'm sorry, I think I actually DO know English better than you)_, and two because it came off as rhetoric.

He opted to shrug half-heartedly. "Well, in response to the latter, I kinda am – "

"_No."_

Tony blinked as Loki gave a soft, bitter laugh.

"Tell me, would you ever be at peace 'kind of' being somebody you are not?"

This really was not something he was comfortable discussing, especially with _Loki. _And yet, why did that hit home all the way out of the ballpark?

"No," Tony agreed, honesty sobering his tone. "No, I'm not."

A pause, one second too long for his taste. Tony reached for the scotch bottle, and when Loki did not protest, poured himself another glass. He raised it to his lips. "But, you know, I'm fairly sure that I am the real – "

"You're twins."

The glass stopped dead right in front of his mouth.

"_What?"_

Loki's hand flourished the air hopelessly. "That's it. That _has_ to be the answer to all of this. You both share similar DNA, you both spout facial features and stature exact to the smallest physical detail and therefore, you are identical twins. You are his mortal brother; he is your Asgardian brother. They have sent you to Earth to avoid him slaying you while you were in his reach, his heart livid with spite, overflowing with such jealousy it was recorded in myth and..."

He paused.

"And...and I sound like such a fool, don't I?"

Mouth agape, Tony said nothing, and chose instead to down his third glass. "You should pour yourself another," the engineer suggested hoarsely after the burn of the alcohol had subsided.

The grip on Loki's glass tightened, and Tony watched the man's facial features twist into something so unbelievably _mortal _that it drew out sympathy from him, and he kind of hated himself for it.

Because it was this look of utter perturbed violation, as if somebody had pressed their middle finger against their thumb, before letting go. Flicking the world on its axis, allowing everything to spin out of control and rendering everything that once seemed reasonable now unreasonable. It lacked reason, it _defied _reason.

"Who are you?" Loki hissed.

And _this _was just flipping the bird off once more to reason.

Because Loki sounded so honest (no, he's the God of Lies) and _l_ost (_no, _he is the God of _Lies_)and _familiar _(_NOPE_ God of _Lies damn it_) –because Tony, as much as he didn't want to admit it, knew that he had probably made this face before himself.

He knew that feeling and how much it _sucked._

He could feel some semblance of it right now anyway; here was Loki – Loki, (Adopted) Son of King of the Space Vikings Odin; Loki, the psychopathic and unsympathetic extraterrestrial; Loki, the evil bad guy Ubermensch or something along those lines – being everything that Loki wasn't _supposed to be._

And Tony decided _screw it;_ enemy or not, this Loki wasn't the same Loki that had thrown him out of Stark Tower, brought a whole alien invasion to New York City, killed Coulson, and endangered the lives of innocent people.

"Tony Stark," he replied as somberly as he could manage; it's fine, just pretend it was some really hot interviewer or a really hot psychiatrist. (Were there such things as hot psychiatrists? He wasn't sure he wanted to find out.) His chest heaved. "And yes, that's short for Anthony – but _nobody_ calls me this, except for the first sentence of my Wikipedia article, my dad, and a few exes when they get angry. You should look it up, actually, probably could tell my life story better than I can." He paused, waiting for a reaction.

When all he got was that stupidly _vulnerable_ look, Tony couldn't help but groan. "Oh, come on, what the hell do you want from me? 'Kay, so, I graduated top of my classes in college when I was seventeen – I've got a Brass Rat somewhere, it's a great party conversation for bragging rights – except, well, shit kind of happened out of my control."

He didn't bother stopping when he saw Loki's mouth open to ask _what shit _because nope, not ready to tell him that_. _

"Fast-forward to a couple years after that where I ascended to the highest level of awesome and inheri..."

Damn it, so much for that. He blamed stupidly vulnerable Loki looking stupidly vulnerable, that manipulative bastard.

"Got my dad's company."

He swore Loki's breath had hitched, but Tony kept going as he grabbed the bottle again, because what the hell, he was this far already. "Anyway, let's rewind a couple years back. Terrorists had weapons my company had – yeah, we're a weapons company, don't look at me like that, Buttercup – my company had built. So I decided to go beyond the highest level of awesome, because I can, and with my own bare hands built that suit you saw me in – myself, I _didn't _copy you, I have all the blueprints proving I came up with this – and then I went and blew up whatever these terrorists got their hands on from me. Oh, best part: I became known as this vigilante superhero doing deeds for the sake of good."

He finished pouring and took a swig, not consuming the contents in one go this time. "It's...really weird, actually, how easy people slap 'superhero' on other people even if they rescued kittens from a damn tree as a hobby. But hey, labels and brands are what makes the mark. Anyway, they called me Iron Man – you know, even though it's not _all _iron – "

"They called you Iron Man," Loki interjected,_ somehow_ looking paler than usual.

Tony nodded.

"Yes, this is good. We are making progress. You are finally seeing the light. You're getting to the fifth stage and you have finally accepted that I am the 'Man of Iron'. Good job!" He frowned. "Except how come your face doesn't look like you've accepted that at all?"

He waited patiently for Loki to finish pouring himself a new glass before taking it all down in one go. Loki coughed as he almost slammed the glass down, eyes squeezed shut. He unraveled his other fist and stretched his fingers, before curling all but his index. This raised finger was then pointed at his own face as his eyes re-opened.

"_I'm_ Iron Man."

A pause.

"Shut up."

"I –

"Just shut up."

"Am –

"No, really."

"_Iron Man."_

"Seriously, this isn't funny anymore, Loki."

"Does it _look _like I am joking, Stark?" Loki rebuked, intensity flashing in a fresh scowl as he leaned forward daringly. "I can certainly pull up my Wikipedia article if you're still doubtful."

Tony's eyebrows lifted.

"You're actually _proud_ of the things they put on it?"

Loki mimicked his befuddled expression.

"And what do you mean by that?" he demanded.

Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Have you _seen _it? You oughta know what I mean – actually, come to think of it, you _might _be proud of it given that you're the Mischief Maker and Lie-Smith and – wait, shit, okay, _fine,_ let me pull it up. Do you have a tablet or a computer with internet that you wanna – "

He froze when he watched Loki casually pull out what looked like a smartphone _(a smartphone, _Loki had a _smartphone _and it looked just as good as the Stark Phone) and tapped his finger on the screen. An enlarged holographic browser came up, and Loki placed his finger on the first line in the favourites bar.

An article headlined with "Loki Lawson (Iron Man)" popped up with Loki's face as the displayed photo on the side. Underneath was a redirection from the search results "Iron Man".

_**Lucas "Loki" Serrure Lawson**__ (formerly Lucas Olson; April 1, 1980) is an American business magnate, hero, engineer, philanthropist, and male model. He is the current CEO and president of Infinity Industries since 2000, and is the current identity the vigilante Iron Man since 2010. Lawson's public embrace of the Iron Man persona, combined with his reformation of Infinity Industries in 2010 after shutting down weapons manufacturing, have placed him in second place within the Top 10 Historical Heroes of America –_

"What the hell is _this?" _Tony rasped.

The phone was taken out of Tony's hand. "That, Stark, is my Wikipedia article," Loki retorted, closing out of the browser and re-pocketing the sleek phone. "I would recommend you not even bat an eyelash at yours. There's often a fair, excessive amount of vandalism, both clever and crude – in which, just to clear my ledger, absolutely none of it is dealt from my hand at all."

Tony cast him a chastising look.

Loki tried to hide a smirk with blatant nonchalance. "Sober, anyway."

An arched eyebrow.

Loki's nonchalance completely faltered. "Well, maybe not even inebriated."

"Whatever, I've returned the favour enough times to call it even."

The smirk vanished.

"_Lovely," _Loki drawled.

Tony took a deep breath.

"But...but that wasn't what I was expecting _at all."_

Loki frowned.

"And what exactly, then, were you expecting from it?"

Tony coughed. Loki narrowed his eyes.

"Anthony," he started, before he cleared his throat, glancing back down at his glass briefly in consideration, before returning his gaze on the engineer. _"Tony Stark._ What am I to you?"

The question itself was as heavy as the silence that hung in the air, forcing itself down onto their shoulders. If he should shove in an innuendo, he would have, but the awkwardness and seriousness of it all was far too thick to slip it in.

Tony drummed his fingers against the desk, unsure of how to reply to this.

Okay, fine, he'll keep playing along.

"You, um...you pretty much tossed me off my own building and killed more people than 10-year-olds playing Call of Duty could in less than a week."

"_...what?"_

Tony took a deep breath in.

"You know that God of Mischief or Chaos and Crazy Shit or Something that you think I'm_ apparently_ supposed to be?"

Loki's gaze turned withering.

"Well, um, how do I put this delicately..." Tony clapped his hands together. "You know how you are _apparently _nicknamed after a Norse God?"

"Of course not, I was completely unaware of this," Loki deadpanned.

"...why not Lucas or Luke, actually? Why _Loki?"_

"That is _not_ the concern at hand. Stark, _who was I?"_

Another heavy pause, and Tony started counting down from three, two...

Oh. Oh, _man. _If only the risks of snapping a photo of this moment didn't have repeat offenses of defenestration and potential murder on the list. The mix of offense, horror, and shock that swept across this man's face was _priceless._

"No."

Tony clicked his tongue.

"Yeeeaaah."

"_No."_

"Yeah. Yeah, I mean, you can't fly like that guy who looks like me apparently can, and I don't know if you can use _fireworks _as a goddamn _superpower,_ but if Katy Perry could do it from her boobs that I'd definitely call magical, then I'm sure you could have and...yeah." He exhaled. "You're supposed to be _him."_

Loki swiftly cursed in what Tony pegged as Scandinavian as he spun around, hand on his head again. And honestly, as amusing and glorious as it should have been because it was _Loki _and Loki was _completely_ off-guard and flustered and losing his shit – Tony couldn't blame him.

Because when he looked back at Loki, all he saw were the same emotions he felt right now.

Anger. Frustration. Piles upon piles and then some of confusion. A loss of answers that were once there but had been snatched rudely from the hands of logic, shredded apart, chewed on rigorously, spat out, and shat on for good measure. Everything, literally _everything,_ was a disarranged mess of puzzle pieces, and nothing was ringing any bells or clues to be able to put them together and make out what the hell was –

Ringing.

The ring.

_Wait._

Tony's eyes flew open, and he looked up at Loki, who had started to pace and mutter under his breath.

"Hey, hey, hang on, I got something, _I got something._ Stop being such a teenage girl and listen for a second."

The green-eyed glare Loki shot back before he turned his back to Tony again and continued to move around was ridiculously unnerving.

"The last thing I remember," Tony started, raising his voice and not bothering to hide any hints of annoyance. "Before I saw you and called you a poser – and don't get me wrong, you _still _are – is being sucked into a _portal."_

Loki instantly stopped pacing, and let his hand fall from his head to his side.

He turned around. Green eyes and brown eyes wide with astonishment locked onto each other.

"My brother," Loki whispered, and his gaze quickly sharpened again. "And SHIELD, because they _are_ SHIELD...there had been murmurs laced with mongered rumors based on the foreign energy readings found when you had been apprehended. He had mentioned fragments of it to me, about the potential chance of there being a brief but sudden, unstable tear in the fabric of..."

Then, as though electricity was in the air, everything _clicked. _

Their babbling co-mingled in that instant.

"But that's – "

"Impossible."

"Illogical."

"It's _stupid."_

"Not a valid percent of probable chance in – "

"Even making any sort of damn sense – "

"Even if it stands as the most plausible explanation for such – "

"Well, it sounds a lot better than the twin thing – "

"It's fictitious, utterly _moronic_ in theory – "

"It's like the bullshit out of_ comic books."_

Loki stopped pacing (which he had resumed doing earlier), Tony stopped waving his hands in the air, and they exchanged glances again.

"Me and, apparently you, _are _pegged as superheroes," Loki pointed out.

Tony actually swallowed nervously.

"Okay, well, um...have you ever read those alternate universe issues? Where they do crossovers, throw these characters in these other wacky dimensions, even...reverse roles..."

Silence once more.

"You are not part of _this dimension,"_ Loki concluded with a shaky whisper.

Tony inhaled sharply.

"No," he agreed once more. "No, I'm not."

And screw everything right now, where the universal-in-every-reality hell was Reed (or that one supposedly-legit-magician whispered amongst SHIELD – what was his name? Something strange, he couldn't bother to remember) when you needed to know how this kind of world-hopping garbage worked?

"You know what, Loki? _You know what? _Come to think of it, compared to _this_..."

Loki watched as he reached for the bottle once more and poured himself another glass full of scotch.

"I wouldn't have minded _twins,"_ Tony grumbled, before he gulped its contents down again and felt it burn with grim satisfaction.

* * *

Tony Stark was not in Kansas anymore.

Or...something like that.

Hadn't he made a Wizard of Oz reference earlier, back in that lab?

He should probably ask.

So he lifted his head from the couch, glanced at the floor below him to the heap of human (and that part was absolutely imperative, because here he wasn't some crazy super-powered Norse deity anymore, he was as human as he was) lying on his stomach on that ground.

"Green Eyes?" he mumbled.

A groan of contempt emerged from the heap of human. Tony groaned as he rolled his eyes.

"Fine, you prissy bitch. _Loki?"_

"_What,_ Stark?" the not-Loki but still Loki snapped.

Tony's head rested back on the couch. God, it hurt to think. His head hurt in general. It'd probably hurt worse once he sobered up.

"Did I mention how I wasn't in Kansas anymore?" he slurred.

"You were _never_ in Kansas in the first place – "

"I know but – "

"You _idiot." _

Oh, God. He hoped that he wouldn't remember any of this once SHIELD came for Loki's ass. Or his ass. Whichever ass they wanted.

(They should totally want his ass. Buttercup's ass here was lame and non-existent anyway. Wait, was it? He _just _saw this guy's back like three seconds ago, there was no good reason to check again and there was no way he was doing that right now and –

_Oh._ Oh, well,_ fuck you too, Loki. Captain Star-Spangled Banner, Kim Possible, and Robin Hood have better asses anyway.)_

* * *

_I am so glad I have finally gotten the plot device out of the way like you would not believe. Part of me keeps questioning whether or not more conflict could have arisen from this chapter, or if it could be any longer. But I figure now than Tony's given up, this Loki's given up...and because of them finally willing to open their eyes and their minds, the truth (or the most logical conclusion) dawns on them at last. I also feel it's a good breather chapter after a bunch of cliffhangers and whatnot I threw at you guys; I'm sure IronPoser!Loki and Tony would no doubt agree on that! _

_Your support is lovely and appreciated, and your speculations and observations make me grin from ear to ear. I like that you guys like God!Tony and IronPoser!Loki so far; I am having quite a bit of fun with God!Tony and for sure I will pull out all of IronPoser!Loki's little mysteries he hides. Of course, I'm definitely having fun with Confused!Tony having all this crap thrown his way. Just wait until next chapter when he gets to meet an equally angry spider and bird. _


	6. How Does THAT Work?

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on.**  
Spoilers: **Everything. **  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **I'm sorry there hasn't been an update in a while. I'm making up for it now with a double-whammy update and some long, delicious chapters of banter and some new characters. See end of chapter for more notes. Enjoy reading!

* * *

This was a nightmare.

This _had_ to be a nightmare.

By nightmare, it was not a living nightmare (which would be an appropriate description regardless of whether the encompassing dimension-traveling thing was 100% correct), but an actual state of unconsciousness. _Just _a nightmare. This was just a really bad nightmare which once Tony woke up from it, would be associated with a really bad hangover followed by a swift trip to the washroom and emptying out the vile alcoholic contents that caused all this in the first place. It would then end with him swearing off alcohol forever as he would pop open a bottle of Caribbean rum.

Nothing more than a nightmare. Yes, _that _was the most logical conclusion.

"Tony?"

"...Bruce?"

And then all that staring up at the ceiling paid off as it morphed into something much more familiar. The leather beneath him shifted to that feel of carpet he recognized so well. It was only when Bruce, wearing a grey shirt and purple tie, appeared in his vision staring down at him inquiringly with lowered glasses did Tony close his eyes again, exhaling in relief.

"Oh, thank God. _Bruce."_ A hand went up to his throbbing head. "Dr. Banner, I know I don't say this enough...but while me at whatever AM in the morning will not appreciate you waking me up at that time, me after the AM will definitely appreciate it."

The shorter of the brown-haired, brown-eyed men of science frowned, raising an eyebrow peculiarly.

"Tony, maybe it's because it's whatever AM, as you've said, but I have no idea what you're talking about," Dr. Bruce Banner replied, looking none too impressed himself.

"That stuff about not drinking too much before I sleep because unconsciousness is more prone to slip into without awareness? Okay, I get that, I really do now, especially because I just had the worst nightmare." Tony hissed as he pressed a thumb towards the spot he knew was probably going to bruise. "Oh, God, did I pass out when I hit the floor or something? But anyway – yeah, nightmares. Really bad nightmares induced by alcoholic repercussions where Loki steals my suits and Loki is Iron Man and Loki is _not _Loki."

Dr. Bruce Banner pushed his glasses back up as he blinked.

"Haven't most of your nightmares been about Loki anyway?"

"Yeah, well, he..."

Tony suddenly frowned himself.

"When...did I tell you that I'm having nightmares about Loki again?"

Because he was sure that was something he was going to carry to his grave and not even Bruce or Steve would know anything about those.

"You didn't. When did I tell you about my theory on how we might have potential Einstein-Rosen bridges again?"

This is where Tony sat up, ready to ask just what kind of relevance the Einstein-Rosen bridge had with Bruce somehow figuring out that Tony had bad dreams about the mean ol' man who almost killed him – except now they were back on one of the R&D floors of Stark Tower, and Bruce was wearing a lab coat and showing a holographic screen to Tony. Diagnostics of high energy levels as well as a diagram of what looked like a fluctuating wormhole was evident on it.

Tony did not like this as his eyes looked back up at his colleague.

"Bruce," he said blankly. "How did we get here?"

At this, Bruce sighed, taking off his glasses as he shook his head.

"I tried to warn you," Bruce replied, and waved his glasses towards the screen in front of them. "You just don't listen very well when you're focused on other things."

"What? Banner, come on, I have no idea what you're saying to me right now. We were _just _in the penthouse, how we did get here? Do not go cryptic emo scientist on me just because the Green Giant wants – "

And then everything _clicked _as Tony stared back at the Einstein-Rosen bridge data and realized that he _had _seen this before – right before the wasps attacked.

Right before the Hulk had tried to reach out to him before he went into the portal.

When Tony looked back at Bruce, the lab coat was gone, the _lab _was gone, and they were back in his penthouse and Tony was lying back down on the carpet, and _nothing _about this made sense especially how Bruce managed to exert that much conscious control over the Hulk right before Tony had tumbled through the portal which meant that...

Why was it cold in here?

Tony shivered as a breeze tickled his skin, and seriously, where was this draft coming from? He swore he had fixed the penthouse windows right after Loki had –

Oh, shit.

Bruce's eyes shifted to a green Tony recognized.

Here's the thing, though; Tony made sure he memorized two pairs of green eyes really well. One, voluntarily memorized, was Bruce's eyes, and Tony had trained himself enough to the point where he could state the exact hexadecimal value – #8DB600, Apple Green, although #BADA55 was perfectly acceptable too – the moment he knew Bruce was about to Hulk out.

This wasn't #8DB600. This looked like #228B22, and that definitely did _not _mean Hulking out.

Bruce's face sneered.

Before Tony even had time to react, fingers found themselves at his neck, the very touch of them freezing as they gripped. His eyes flew open, and he gagged as he was yanked roughly into the air, gaze cast towards the armour-clad figure the hand belonged to.

Wide and wild green eyes flickered a bright, searing, icy blue (#00FFFF, Cyan, full green and blue hex values) if only for a split second, and it was as though Loki was admiring how wondrous it was to get his hands on Tony, around Tony, this infuriating mortal once more. Then his mouth twisted into a grin, manic and daring, as though he had decided exactly what he wanted to do next.

In this instant, that floor that he had first thrown Tony off of shattered around them, save only a segment of the floor underneath those black boots, elevated and standing still in the vacuum of stars and darkness around them.

It had been the streets of New York first, the terrified faces of the people below him who would not catch him before he landed. He wasn't too sure when it had turned from that into _outer space_.

Tony's hands shot up, grasping the wrist of the deranged god strangling him, trying desperately to pry those hands away. He watched Loki's coat billow, his long hair sweeping forward, and in response to Tony's squirming, the grip on Tony's neck tightened, muffling the cry that left Tony's mouth into a choked garble.

"Have you fallen yet?" Loki whispered.

Yet his voice echoed through the cold air, reverberating louder than the forces whirling past them. It slithered into Tony's ears, making his heart beat, chilling his blood.

This was a nightmare. This was only a nightmare. This _had_ to be a nightmare.

This was also nothing new.

But each time _this_ happened, it was so vivid and _terrifying _that it didn't matter how unfamiliar it was. You would think after seeing this void of space so many times in his dreams that he could take it if he tumbled through it again.

This was not the first time Stark had pleaded.

"Don't let go," Tony rasped.

And you'd think after seeing this dream enough times every now and then that Tony could say anything else, _anything, _instead of _begging _this asshole to not drop him, not let him fall into that vacuum that threatened to swallow him whole, leading to nowhere yet everywhere and then _break him._

Why wasn't space as beautiful as everyone said it was?

Maybe Tony just liked building technology, grounded on Earth, rather than explore the marvellous universe and all its astronomical treasures. Maybe it was just _this _part of space that sucked (figuratively and literally). Maybe Loki should start taking him to nicer places to drop him rather than a black hole.

Maybe Loki should stop being such a bastard.

He let go.

* * *

Tony gasped as reality rushed back, jolting his body awake. Taking a moment to close his eyes again because the lights were bright as hell and they _hurt _almost as much as his head hurt and his ears rang, before re-opening them.

The walls were painted grey and the snake-lamps were still on them.

God damn it, either Leonardo DiCaprio needed to show up right now to get him out of Level 2, or he was definitely wide awake and still in Loki's penthouse.

_This _Loki anyway, the one with the same green eyes and the same dark hair colour, who was sitting up next to the couch and currently scrolling through what looked like 47 missed calls on his smartphone, brows furrowed and bags evident. Tony grumbled as he placed fingers on his temples, massaging them slowly as he grit his teeth and closed his eyes again. The sun hadn't even risen yet, so _why _were the lights outside becoming so bright then?

"Alright, listen, I know we've just discovered something ground-breaking for all of science as we know it, but it's still too early to let anything even _begin _sinking in right now, okay?" He let one of his eyes crack open as he lifted his head up, propping himself up with his elbows. He watched Loki's shoulders suddenly tense and his eyes shoot up, and hey, maybe he wasn't the only one trying to cope then. "Can you tell Signal or whatever her name is to turn down the lights, because I – "

"Duck," Loki snapped.

Tony's hands fell from his face as he forced both eyes open.

"_Duck?"_ he echoed.

Loki said nothing. Tony let his head drop back on the couch as he groaned, ready to demand why Loki had to be such a strange little shit at Whatever O' Clock AM_ – _just as something whizzed straight past his ear and _embedded _itself into the couch. He turned his head to watch the black arrow just right next to his face shake faintly before becoming still.

_Oh._

"Ohshitschiessenmierdamerde – " the engineer yelped, sitting up instantaneously as he pushed itself into the corner of the couch away from the projectile. He was about to launch into the other parts of Europe for his vehement tirade of curses, when a hand slapped down roughly on his shoulder, gripping him tightly down, and sharp, cold steel pressed against his neck.

Tony did everything in his power not to scream like a little girl he turned to glare at Loki first, who simply winced.

Okay. Okay. _Okay_. _Calm down, Tony, don't panic. You got this. _

And he kind of did because Tony knew _exactly _what this meant back home. It meant something that started with a "C" and ended with an "nt" and sadly, that wasn't the other word. The knife meant that somebody with an actual "C" ending with an "nt" that _was _the other word was also here. But here was not there, so what would it actually mean here?

_Alright, you got this, don't worry. You just have to sort out the variables now:_

_Let x = being a good guy  
Let y = being a bad guy  
Let z = these guys who currently wanted to have his head_

_If Tony = x, then Clint = x  
If Clint = x, then Natasha = x  
Therefore Tony, Clint, and Natasha = x  
Therefore z =/= Clint and Natasha_

_However, this Loki = x  
This Loki =/= that Loki  
And in this world, Tony = y_

_Therefore if Tony = y, then Clint and Natasha = y  
Therefore z = wait a second this isn't fucking helping the situation AT ALL_

Because the situation was that somebody had a knife to his neck, and someone else was trying to shoot fucking arrows straight through his currently hungover and bruised head. It didn't (shouldn't) matter whether or not these people weren't Clint or Natasha; what mattered is that somebody had a knife to his neck, and someone else was trying to shoot fucking arrows straight through his currently hungover and bruised head.

"Alright, alright," Tony hissed, raising both of his arms into the air – only for the knife to press even _closer _to his skin. "No, look, alright, _I get it,_ I'm a bad guy, I know! If you just give me a few seconds to explain what's actually going on – wait, no, if you guys let Iron Poser here tell you what's actually happening..."

Desperate, Tony shifted his eyes towards Loki, hoping that he'd be the voice of reason right now – and of course Loki wasn't even bothering to look at him as his eyes began darting around the room. Great. Dying in a world that wasn't his own by getting his neck slashed open was definitely not one of the ways that Tony wanted to die either. "Hey, Buttercup," Tony said, whistling too to try and get the not-god's attention. "Will you stop looking for your tie and – "

At that moment, Loki whipped his head back towards Tony, gaze steely and urgent, though his next words were not for him.

"I would have you explain how you disabled SIGYN's commands to sound the alarms off when strangers or unwanted guests intruded, but for now I simply will leave it at _Romanov, don't."_

Wait, what?

"How does that work?" Tony questioned.

His answer dropped from the ceiling and landed right in front of him.

Still wasn't a good enough answer.

"No, seriously, how does _that _work?" Tony demanded at the redhead sporting long, straight hair with chic-cut bangs, a black suit with red and yellow touches here and here, and aiming a loaded crossbow straight at his face with one sleeved arm pulled back and another elbow-gloved and gauntlet-padded arm holding a particularly dangerous looking arrow. "This isn't just scrambling all my variables, this is completely shoving your finger up George Boole's ass after you told him 'it's okay, I'll be gentle'. How are you not some psychotic evil bitch?"

The redhead's nostrils flared, and although he didn't see her sharp, green-eyed gaze from behind those dark, red-rimmed sunglasses, he knew it was there as she tilted her head just to the side to glare back at Loki.

"You have exactly T-point-ten seconds to tell me why the hell he's not cuffed or I shoot and SHIELD busts in to back me up," Natasha drawled.

Ah. So _that's _where all those lights came from, Tony noted, as he noted the floating helicopters beaming search lights straight inside the room. His eyes shifted back to where Loki stood, watching the black-haired man take a deep breath in before he gave the most unconvincing smile that Tony has ever seen from him _(both_ of him, to top).

"He insisted the cuffs looked better on me."

At this, Tony had to raise an eyebrow, along with Natasha who completely turned her head to look at straight him.

"Circumstances," Loki sighed, "that would require sand added to this poor excuse of an hourglass you've offered – "

"T-point-eight."

Loki's face fell.

"Excellent, that's all the time I'll need before I effectively shit my pants." Tony glared straight at him. "Green Eyes, come _on."_

"Do you expect them to believe me if I summed it down to a sentence, Stark?" Loki retorted, glaring back at him. "Why don't you try to convince them if you believe you can do better?"

"You know what, that sounds like a great idea. Oh, wait, it's not!" Tony beckoned at himself with one of his hands. "God of Bullshit, remember?"

"T-point-five."

"Wait, no,hang on, _wait! _You misunderstood – "

Loki actually smirked.

"Oh I'm going to _kill you,"_ Tony growled.

"Alright, screw it, time's up."

Natasha's finger nearly pulled back all the way just as Tony let took a deep breath in and let what he could _out_.

"Natasha Romanov, secret covert agent of SHIELD with thighs that can kill, also takes the aliases of Natalie, Nancy, Nat King Cole, Yelena, Boleva, Olga, something Russian I don't know I've only seen you use like two of those, I don't know your exact age, but you look young and fit and that's all I'm gonna say because you – okay, let's say I have this vision where you nearly broke my arm because I said something about 'you can't be as old as Steve' when you said Steve wasn't that old – which, by the way, he totally is – and either you were trained by one of the best soldiers in Russia and forgot to tell us everything else about your life since, y'know, secret covert agent, _or_ you joined a circus with your brother or sister and you learned how to shoot a bow and arrow so damn good that that Scottish princess movie was based off you."

Tony gasped, tempted to heave his shoulders forward in order to breathe and relax, if not for whoever was behind him pointing sharp objects at where his head connected with his body.

Judging by the way Natasha's eyebrows raised, he knew he had definitely gotten something right. Judging by the way Natasha's finger remained on the crossbow's trigger, he knew he had definitely taken the wrong approach to this.

"So, that vision where I break your arm," she said. This time, the crossbow was raised so the tip of it was hovering just _centimeters _away from Tony's forehead. "Tell me again why it isn't an arrow straight in that screwed-up litter of hyperactive bloodhound puppies that run rampant in that head of yours?"

Tony's eyes uncrossed, looking away from the projectile to focus on Natasha again.

"Well, believe it or not, in that vision you're not Hawkeye," he replied.

No, it was never a good thing in _any _dimension if she was grinning flatly at him.

"Well, believe it or not, I can stand right over there on the ceiling, with my eyes closed, drunk, and still shoot you straight through those shit-coloured eyes," Natasha retorted.

"No nonononono that's okay no I believe it. But – while we're on the subject of why you're not the one behind me – how's Barton's eyesight?"

Her grin broadened as she looked past Tony.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" she hissed.

The knife lowered to where Tony's heart was (which still wasn't good), just enough so that Tony could turn his head upwards to look at the figure wearing what was almost a 90% black outfit accented here and there with faded yellow and indigo tones. Where his quiver should have been was a sheath, a _sheath for a sword,_ for God knows whatever reason, and Tony could only guess it was Legolas despite the full-faced dark mask with white eye slits.

"What?" Tony exclaimed, because no seriously, _what?_ "No lovely shades of maroon? No catsuit either? I'm gonna go ahead and say I'm slightly disappointed about that, especially the catsuit. I think it would have worked well on your assets."

Oops, there was the knife back at his neck.

"It's not my ass you should be concerned about, Stark," the voice responded warningly, and yep, that was definitely him.

Tony couldn't help but roll his eyes, despite having his logic even more scrambled by what the hell Clint was wearing. "Has it occurred to you that maybe it should be if I'm not calling you all a bunch of pathetic mortals and things right now?" he pointed out.

It was Natasha who scoffed while Clint craned his neck down.

"And we're supposed to trust the God of Bullshit again _why?" _Clint inquired.

"Because he isn't the God of Bullshit."

At this, everyone turned back to Loki, who pinched the bridge of his nose and avoided looking at any of them as his other hand scrolled through his phone.

Tony was nonplussed. "Was that really so hard for you to say?"

"That word is uncouth and inarticulate; there are more eloquent ways to express vulgarities than it." Loki's eyes darted up towards Natasha and Clint. "We've concluded that the energy fluctuations recorded from three days ago when we apprehended Anthony Stark were from that of a tear ripped in the space-time continuum."

At this, Natasha just scoffed again as she slipped her shades off. "Right, because hopping into other worlds is _totally _a thing," she retorted, placing them on top of her head.

Loki appeared to be more than annoyed when he narrowed his gaze.

"You'll have to take my word on it, Agent Romanov, when I say that it is."

"Lawson, I could tell you that it's adorable that you think you can out-bullshit the God of Bullshit we've managed to just barely re-secure, but try and be serious here."

"I am the most serious individual in this room as of present. As a matter of fact, I would say I am the most serious _and _most intelligent living, breathing organism within this lounge." Loki rolled his eyes as he glanced back at his phone. "Do not close your mind to science and act like a whining wench simply because it cannot comprehend it."

That's when Natasha lowered her crossbow (much to Tony's relief) and proceeded to point it right at Loki (much to Tony's not-relief).

"I'll give you 'whining wench' you son of a – "

"Nat!"

That's when Loki actually looked up from his phone, as did a very angry Natasha, both tight-lipped. Tony watched as Clint's hand with the knife (thank _fuck)_ lifted up, gripping the front of his mask. He heard something that sounded like three things sliding back and unlocking before he removed the helmet.

That was definitely Clint Barton with a poker face that would have made his world's Natasha proud. "Agent Romanov," Clint repeated more cordially – no, professionally – as he set down the helmet (and resumed placing the fucking knife back at Tony's neck). "He's not worth your time."

This is where Loki apparently decided now was a good day for any of them to die as he resumed scrolling back on his mobile handheld.

"Agent Barton, I'm disappointed in you as well," the man drawled. "After all I've done for the sake of SHIELD, you refuse to even acknowledge my contributions?"

Cold metal lifted away from Tony's neck once more, and Tony actually thought Clint was going to throw the damn tanto right at Loki. When no knife found itself between Loki's eyes, Tony remembered that oh hey the knife was no longer at his neck after more than ten seconds and he allowed himself to exhale as Clint spoke.

"I was out of SHIELD's floor the moment I heard that _you _were the one interrogating Stark. I was the one who told everybody to turn the hell around when SHIELD was halfway to California rather than seek you out on every damn floor." The agent's grip tightened on Tony's shoulder (which _oww_ really hurt). "Sure enough, here you are, housing one of our worst supernaturally-powered criminals who nearly destroyed one of the R&D floors of your citadel."

An eyebrow arched on Loki's forehead.

"'Housing' sounds disturbingly domestic, don't you think?"

"Well, it's either that or 'drinking buddy'," Natasha said, pointing the crossbow back towards Tony (without even looking at him either; seriously, where was the Twilight Zone theme when you needed to play it?) "What the hell do you think you're doing with him anyway?"

"He had armour similar to that of my own." Business seemingly finished, Loki finally pocketed his phone as he looked back up. "And he is not _our _worst supernaturally-powered criminal."

"And why not?" Clint asked testily.

"Portals," Tony interjected.

All eyes were on Tony now. Tony cleared his throat and raised his finger, but not before he pointed at Clint's hand as he glanced around.

"You wanna let go of me first, Legolas? Or should I say Yojimbo? Kind of just a little bit no I'm really uncomfortable with you even touching me right now."

Clint just _looked _at him in response.

"Alright, fine, okay, I can have pain in more places than my head then," Tony said as he turned back around. "No big deal." He raised his finger again. "Ever looked into a mirror and wondered 'gee, what would happen if I wasn't exactly me?'" He pointed it at himself. "Well, I'm the reflection. I'm not from this world."

"Of course you're not from this world," was the far-too-immediate rebuttal from Natasha as she beckoned towards the skies out of the penthouse. "We kind of figured that out when your brother crash-landed here to try and get you back."

"I…"

Wasn't talking about _that_, but while they were on the subject of strange things in strange worlds...

"I have a _brother?"_ Tony echoed incredulously.

"Oh, yes, and he needs to get back here so he can take your stubborn ass back to Asgard," Clint muttered.

Tony's eyebrows knotted. He did his best not to completely freak out as a mental image of Steve sporting flowing blond locks, star-studded armour, and the United States of America flag flowing from behind him wielding a giant hammer on fire appeared, standing majestically next to a crew-cut short-haired Thor who knelt next to him valiantly, one arm slung over his propped knee and an elegant-shaped shield with a cross and many colours.

"Well, I definitely can't wait to meet the God of Liberty from the land of the free and the home of the brave once he shows up," Tony drawled, because honestly, no, he was _not _looking forward to seeing American god Steven Rogers or Captain Asgardia _at all. _"Because you guys – especially you, Ninja Turtle – are making me _really _uncomfortable."

"You make us all uncomfortable, Stark."

Tony flashed a grin towards Natasha.

"Sorry, I have that effect on people in general. I find that it's most popular with women."

That was probably the first time he noticed Natasha's eye visibly twitch. It would also probably be the last as Clint's grip tightened.

"We're taking you to SHIELD."

Tony glanced behind him again to scoff. "What, are you going to just escort me all the way back down?"

"No, we're taking you to SHIELD."

This prompted a frown from Tony as he stared puzzled towards Clint. There was a floor for SHIELD right in this building that could be reached by the main elevator. How the hell was that not –

Tony's face fell.

"Like, the legit SHIELD base?"

"Oh, you better believe it," Natasha's voice murmured.

So _that _explained the helicopters. Tony turned back towards Natasha and smirked.

"And what if I refuse?"

No, it still remained a very bad thing any time Natasha had to smirk back.

Clint smirking was a lot more common, but it just made him even more unsettled when he noticed the guy was grinning too.

And that's when the sound of glass shattering resonated within the room, causing Tony and Loki to whip their heads in the direction of the windows – Loki most notably as his eyes bulged. "No, _no!" _he cried amongst the clamour of army boots, rappel gears, and guns being cocked towards Tony Stark. He looked like he would have collapsed on his knees if he was not balling his fists and glaring fiercely towards the coat-clad man who stepped inside, kicking a piece of glass out of the way that was still attached to the frame. "Do you not realize how much I _paid _for the replacements?"

Loki was ignored as Agent – no, Director Coulson strolled right up to where Tony was sitting. "Oh, hey, look, it's the walking dead," Tony scoffed. "By the way, have you considered travelling the world yet or knocking on people's doors to tell them the story about Jesus Christ? Because I'm not sure how numbered your days are, but you might want to start counting. Just a premonition."

Coulson was not the least bit amused as he pursed his lips. He made a motion that Tony only assumed was _don't shoot but keep the guns pointed at him just in case he tries anything stupid_ and shifted his attention back towards Loki.

"Lawson, once again I see that you've failed to uphold any more reason for me to trust you."

Loki frowned. "With all due respect, Coulson – "

Coulson frowned back at him. Loki sighed.

"_Director. _If I failed you so, then there is really no point to listen to my explanation about – "

"About how he fell through a hole in the sky and it turns out it _wasn't _linked to the same energy signatures as him or his brother when they fell from the heavens onto Earth?" Coulson shrugged. "Yeah, don't worry, I know."

That was what got Natasha and Clint's attention as they followed Tony and Loki's lead, brows creasing as astonished expressions were cast in the direction of their director. Natasha was the first to speak up, and Tony barely caught the nervous twitch of her index finger at the crossbow's trigger.

"And just when did SHIELD confirm this and decide that they weren't going to tell us?"

Coulson gave her this look that, if Tony had to describe it, was the equivalent of a brick wall you were about to crash into.

"Agent Romanov, that's classified information not available to agents of your clearance level."

Natasha jabbed a thumb towards the man restraining Tony. "What about Barton?"

"Good question. Agent Barton, do you honestly think you would have given a damn if we had told you?"

Clint just shrugged.

"Thought so. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, this is what's going to happen now – "

"Hold the phone, you _knew _about the portal?" Tony butted in, leaning forward as best as he could under Clint's hold. He was practically gawking at Coulson with his jaw slack. "Since _when?"_

Coulson glanced towards Loki when he spoke.

"This evening when the scientists confirmed Olson and the research facility's hypotheses that it was definitely a portal."

If Loki was fazed at that, he didn't show it beyond shifting his weight to another foot. Tony just scoffed as he shook his head in disbelief. "And then you _knew _I'm not the guy you're actually looking for and you brought a whole damn chopper of SHIELD agents to come get me?" he added, beckoning a hand towards the broken windows and the dozen of SHIELD agents surrounding him.

"Not really. I didn't say you _weren't_ the guy we're looking for."

"But _you _said it yourself! You confirmed that I'm not even from here, therefore, I am not the God of..." Tony paused to wave his hand pointlessly in the air before dropping it. "Whatever the Hell He's a God of Anymore. He might have my face – because let's face it, not to rub it into anyone's other faces, but I have a good-looking face – but that's it, I'm not him!"

"We know. But like I said, I didn't say you _weren't_ the guy we're looking for." With that, Coulson nodded towards one of the agents standing by. "Cuff him back up."

Oh, this just reeked of bullshit now. He saw Loki visibly look up, interest obviously piqued, and for fuck's sake, why wasn't he doing anything now to _help him _like he had done before?

Tony tried to wrestle off Clint's wrist, to no avail as Clint simply tightened his grip (and _OW_ with a capital O-W) and Natasha re-aimed the crossbow towards him. He jutted his head forward stubbornly at the other approaching agent holding a pair of shackles. "Uh uh, no, I'm not putting those back on – are those the same handcuffs you gave me yesterday? Okay, this needs to _stop,_ I do not consent to your creepy little kinks, Christian Grey. Also, you _know _I'm mortal now, _why _would you slap a shock collar on me again? I'm not putting those on until I get nice, straightforward, clear answers. I absolutely refuse."

"You have no choice in the matter, Mr. Not-Stark," Coulson responded flatly.

"It's _still _Stark, by the way."

"For the sake of avoiding confusion, it's Not-Stark now." A brow elevated on Coulson's face. "The other option is 'pain in my ass'. What'll it be?"

Tony guffawed.

"Funny, I assumed that was _Loki's _nickname."

Green Eyes simply_ smirked_ at him again from a distance, the bastard.

"Yes, how _dare _you usurp a title I've gone through great lengths to earn, mortal."

Tony smirked back.

"Now you're definitely sounding like the Loki I know and love," he muttered dryly.

The smirk widened into a grin, emitting this dazzling teeth and twinkling eyes sort of deal. That sort of look that told Tony that _anyone _who smiled right now would contribute even further to his absolute loathing of this dimension so far.

"You flatter me far too much, Stark. I'm sure your admiration for me will grow when I convince SHIELD once more to leave you under my care for the rest of the morning and the afternoon."

Okay, no, he wasn't expecting that. Tony cocked his head to the side inquiringly as Coulson's head turned ever-so-slowly towards Loki.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lawson, but – "

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Natasha finished, tone scathing.

"Ironic that it is not I asking you that," Loki shot back. He waved his hands around him as the grin dissolved instantly into a scowl."Are you so blind to the damages you have wreaked upon here, Director? Have you no consideration to the _ungodly _hour you've chosen to barge into one of my buildings, other than the floors I've designated for you, and vandalize my property, my _sanctuary?" _He beckoned towards the windows furiously._ "_Do you not realize how much it cost to repair those windows your swarms of agents and soldiers have just permanently damaged? That is more than five zeroes that you've completely demolished!" He pointed at the black couch. "The sofa is an additional four zeros."

Coulson just rolled his eye.

"We can fully compensate for that, Mr. Lawson."

A very false smile blossomed on Loki's lips.

"How generous of you to show me such a kindness, Director, and I would forgive your intrusion then – if I was ignorant to your mockery and I knew naught about you," he spat.

"If you make it rain, Lawson, there's no point of us adding more water to the overflowing floods that's Infinity Industries' wealth."

Instead of glowering in retort, Loki blinked, thrown off by the colloquialism. Coulson's no-nonsense face was put back on as he looked back towards Tony.

"You have a lot of new questions that we need answered now that we've confirmed that there are other dimensions outside of a singular universe. Because once upon a time, here on a little planet we like to call 'Earth' inhabited by a race scientifically classified as 'homosapien', we all assumed it was fact that we were just one universe and one universe only. Anything outside of our planet such as Asgard and other alien realms were signs that there were others in that one universe besides human beings."

Coulson took a deep breath, as though trying to collect himself; show some restraint from completely flipping his shit, before he spoke again.

"But now, your existence has completely changed those facts we once believed in, Mr. Not-Stark. Your evil twin can wait; we're looking at _you _now."

Honestly, Tony was kind of humbled at that. Because he knew Coulson spoke the truth. Coulson spoke exactly what was all on their minds right now; this was a lot to digest for anyone. His shoulders slumped, and he was about to reply before Loki opened his mouth first once more.

"And they can wait until the dawn peaks, Director. He should stay here until then."

There was Coulson glaring back at Loki again with that half-lidded eye.

"Give me one good reason why you still want to keep him around to play with."

A mischievous leer appeared on the Iron Poser's visage.

"Precisely that."

When it was evident that nobody found Loki's jest particularly amusing, the man simply sighed as he placed fingers to his forehead, squeezing the sides of it just above the brows with an index and thumb.

"I still have not figured out all of what is necessary to know as to how Anthony Not-Stark's armour's primary power source is. More data is necessary, and I intend on obtaining as much of it as I can down to the last detail." He flourished his other hand towards Tony. _"He_ is the answer to the reason why mankind has been thrown back away from the hand outstretched in invitation; the exhilarating touch from the advancement of technology. If I can figure out his power source since _none _of your scientists are capable of doing that for whatever reason was not disclosed to me by Dr. Olson, then I will be able to contribute just as much modern science as Not-Stark here has done."

The lids of his eyes closed over focused green orbs as he sighed.

"Actually, if you allow me to do this and if I do find results, then it will be Stark that remains to contributing the most. I will only be the man who sways him towards charity. I am the one, other than his brother, than can get him to _talk."_

Loki's eyes re-opened.

"You will also not help ease this splitting headache that I currently possess," he concluded. He folded his hands behind him as he looked towards Coulson. "What is your decision, Director?"

All eyes were on Coulson now as everyone turned towards the leader of SHIELD. Coulson's face remained stoic, right before he frowned.

"Mr. Not-Stark," he began. "What is it you want?"

What did he want? What did _he _want? There were a lot of things that Tony wanted right now: answers, _sensible answers. _He wanted his tower back, as in _his _tower. He wanted to be back in his lab with JARVIS making sarcastic quips at him here and there as he worked on modifications to his future Iron Man suits. He wanted to get the hell out of this place and go back to _his _place, _his _dimension.

"I want," Tony replied after a long pause, realizing how much agony his own head was in. "To _sleep._ Is that too much to _fucking ask for?"_

* * *

Apparently...no, it wasn't.

Which was really surprising since, considering _it was SHIELD_ and SHIELD really wanted to get their hands on him, it seemed like Tony had practically asked for the moon.

Coulson had pointed at his sole eye, and then pointed right back at Tony and Loki before he had hopped back onto his helicopter with the rest of his cronies.

It was quite possibly the scariest look from one eye that Tony had ever seen, and that said something.

Natasha had been _furious – _still was, actually as she sulked on the couch gripping two halves of what was once a _very _durable arrow in her balled fists. Clint's expression was unreadable as he sat next to her, watching Loki's fish and eel swim around the tank, but Tony could only assume he was just as pissed and was holding in his rage with some Japanese Zen technique he had apparently learned when he decided to become the Last Samurai. It was an absolute _blessing _when he had let go – it was a complete curse that _those two _had been assigned babysitting duty for him and Loki.

There was a whole damn floor for SHIELD anyway in this tower; what was the point? He could very well tell them everything he knows right there and then, especially if they promised to help him find a way to transport back to his dimension since apparently they had the ring in their possession and were probably running about fifty-thousand useless tests on it.

He didn't want to be here.

"You owe me a drink."

He _really _didn't want to be here.

Tony looked behind him to see Loki examining two bottles of gin contemplatively in each hand. Both had different labels on them but the fact remained that it was _6 AM. _The brown-haired man supressed remarking upon this rather obvious fact or pointing out how Loki already had two in his grasp, simply turning back towards Clint and Natasha – who had chosen to glare right back at him.

Upon retrospect, Clint and Natasha did get pissed off with him back in his world too.

"Believe me, Green Eyes," Tony muttered as he forced himself to look towards the broken window and the three repairmen who were currently pulling out tape measurers. "I owed you one a long time ago."

* * *

_Phew, long chapter! But wait, there's MORE! Tony's definitely got a lot more on his hands now that what he thought was valid logic within an illogical world has simply become invalid logic within an even more illogical world. There's some concept art of role-swapped Natasha and Clint for this fic around Tumblr under the Full Tilt Divas tag. A lot of things in their character designs were based off of existing Marvel designs. Natasha has an outfit similar to Kate Bishop's, and Clint is most definitely taking on the costume and skills of Ronin in here. _

_If you need a photo visual, any photo where Renner's got his hair not styled up, and ScarJo's haircut from "The Perfect Score". (There is a scene in that movie that parodies the Matrix where she wears black leather and kicks ass in all her red-haired glory. It's in the trailer too. Watch it; the fact that scene is showcased right after Chris Evans says, "If you could be anything you wanted to be, what would you be?" is PRICELESS.) _


	7. Je Ne Parle Pas Français

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on.**  
Spoilers: **EVERYTHING. **  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **And here's Part 2 of the double-whammy update! Oh, if I haven't already mentioned; I'm free-forming a lot of the science and physics in this fic. I apologize for factual inaccuracies and THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS IRL feels. See end of chapter for more notes. Enjoy reading!

* * *

"And this, Stark, will be your temporary quarters."

Scrutiny was arguably an understatement of how to describe the expression painted gratuitously over Tony's face. The brown-haired man pursed his lips and gave a low hum as he surveyed the dark grey walls, the wooden flooring with green carpet around the bed, the_...thing_ of furniture in the corner near the windows that didn't even look like it would stand properly if he tried sitting on it, the generic round glass coffee table next to that with two black leather chairs, a desk, and two of the most pretentious excuses for modern lamps he had ever clapped eyes on (and he had clapped eyes on quite a few in his time as a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist) on two mahogany, double-drawer nightstands next to his mattress.

"That's a _canopy bed," _Tony finally said.

There was that detail to take in too – this incredibly contemporary flat, queen-sized rectangle with two green pillows and dark sheets that sat within a metal frame box and had translucent black fabric draped over the top and corners of said box.

When he noticed Loki simply staring at him disapprovingly with an empty martini glass in hand (who has a _gin and tonic _at 6:57 _in the morning? _It's a _cocktail _too for God's sake), Tony just turned to look him straight in the eye as he pointed back at the bed.

"That's a _canopy bed," _he repeated.

"Yes, Stark, how _observant _of you. It fills me with _such _relief and thrills me with _such_ joy that you are able to distinguish furniture here so astutely. Did you know that you can sleep in it rather than keep yourself awake at 7:00 AM to pester me, by the way?"

Tony rolled his eyes, ignoring the sheer amount of sarcasm Loki's voice oozed with.

"Look, if you want this to work out between you and me, you're gonna have to remember that I'm not a crazy Norse deity from Ass-garden and that I _do _know what the hell shit like sofas, Laz-E-Boys, and ottomans – ottomen? What's the proper plural for that again? Wait, doesn't matter, never mind – what _Earth furniture _is." His finger moved from the bed to that _thing _in the corner of the room. "What _these _are is not Earth furniture at all. This is something you ordered from space that was beamed down into this room because what the hell is _that_?"

Loki let out an indignant scoff as he gaped at Tony incredulously.

"That is _avant-garde_, Stark! For a man who prattles about his riches and treasures, your taste does not seem to match your wealth."

"Nuh uh, I have good taste. I have _great _taste, as a matter of fact. And I can tell you right now that this crap doesn't taste very good to me. It's not even _'avant-garde'_ or '_au courant'_! This, Green Eyes, is what you would call '_le shit'."_

"_C'est un enfant gâté," _Loki muttered.

"_Fermez la bouche, chienne." _

The green-eyed man arched an eyebrow at Tony, who simply raised both his as well as his hands innocently and intentionally. "What, me?" he exclaimed. "No, I'm sorry, I can't understand what you're saying since I totally don't speak French."

"I can tell," Loki huffed as he straightened his posture, adjusting his waistcoat. "It's pronounced _'femme'_, not _'fur-maize'_."

Before Tony could open his mouth to retort as his hands dropped to his side, Loki gestured dismissively at the room.

"If it so comforts you and puts your mind at peace, I had little input with the interior designers' work. I simply told them to make it look nice, and they did as they were told with the oversight of my assistant. I would be more than pleased to have thisas a guest room in your position – complete with a lavish bathroom and a walk-in closet."

"First off, this feels more like a hotel room than a guest room. Well, the line between those is pretty thin, but still. Alright, where are the romantic lighting settings?" Tony clapped his hands twice, staring at the ceiling light and the strange lamps. When nothing happened, he clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "That will not do, Babe. That will not do. Okay, you know what, so as long as there's a Jacuzzi in the bathrooms, we'll be fine. Second off, that's a _really _difficult thing for me to believe when there's more green in this room than the 1960's."

Loki blinked. Tony frowned.

"_Really? _Come on, Buttercup. 1960's? Green? Peace and love, sista? Mary – you know what, I'm gonna wait for that to sink in. The point is this." He pointed back at the bed. "Can we get that in red and gold, please?"

"You should be more than grateful for being provided for in the first place," Loki argued firmly, withering glare back on his face as he placed the martini glass down on one of the nightstands. "You are indebted to me, Anthony – "

"Tony."

"_Stark." _

"I said please. Has it occurred to you that maybe I don't _want _to be in your debt?" Tony retorted, turning sharply on his heel to match Loki's glare. "I don't need any of this. I never needed it the moment I was welcomed here with a repulsor blast to the face by your stupid suit with a green and piss yellow – "

"Desaturated metallic gold."

"_Piss yellow _paint job. I didn't need it when I realized I'm a wanted criminal here, and I'm not even the criminal. And out of all things, I don't need you, your help or anyone's help."

Loki just laughed right in his face before he turned and walked out of the door.

"Then what would you prefer, Stark?" he snapped. "Would you like to return down to where SHIELD is to be held in their custody? Do you find more comfort encased in glass than you do lying in a _canopy bed?"_

"I like how you're catching on to how pretentious that thing is," Tony called. He followed him right out, trailing behind Loki, grateful that Clint and Natasha were in the penthouse still most likely scheming on how to make his time here even more miserable or debating if it was too early to drink (at this point, nope, never too early). "Don't worry, man; in due time – which believe me will not take more than about five minutes since I don't _have _time – I'll get you to get rid of that...that _thing _in the corner when you start acknowledging it as a waste of space."

"I highly doubt that contemporary chairs will be what will waste that room's space once you occupy it."

"_Rude. _That is also the furthest thing from a chair that I have ever seen. But hey, let's talk about things that I do actually need if you're going to house me."

Loki laughed again. "Wilt thou be lord of the whole world?" he spat, pulling a card out of his pocket and waving it in front of a door. He opened it, before disappearing inside – just as Tony managed to catch the door before it closed.

"It's just basic necessities that I need to live," Tony continued, ascending the set of stairs as his quicker footsteps echoed over Loki's restrained, sharp ones. "Everyday stuff, Green Eyes, not a big deal. Food, water, clothes, one of the R&D floors, Wi-Fi – "

Damn it, who stops _just like that _in the middle of going up a staircase? He almost crashed right into Loki's back before the man whirled around.

"_Out _of the question."

"But Wi-Fi!"

"Which you can obtain in your room just fine; it even comes with Ethernet. But your desire to obtain a whole research facility and laboratory for yourself is something I _refuse _to fulfill."

"Look, I won't even have to use all of it!" Tony protested as Loki turned his back on him again and continued walking up the stairs. He raised his index finger. "Maybe one third of it – "

"This is a bargain not open for barter, Stark! As a matter of fact, do not even consider it a bargain at all!"

Three floors up was when Loki opened the door, walking through the hall with Tony finally side-by-side with him as he practically flailed with hand gestures while Loki scrolled through his smartphone.

"Look, I get it! You don't trust me, and you know what? That's fine. I'm more than okay with this. On second thought, no, I'm not, because I _do _need you to trust me. I guess it can't be blamed that my evil twin is going around breaking hearts all over the world and being a two-faced bitch." Tony tapped his chest, hand close to his arc reactor. "But I need to repair my suit. Being somewhere where I can be in my element will help speed up the repairs, get that healing process going."

"I'm under strict orders from SHIELD that you are not permitted to touch your armour while under house arrest," Loki responded.

Tony scoffed.

"You just want to keep looking at it," he accused.

Oh, he totally caught that little smirk that had appeared on Loki's face for less than a second.

"What makes you think I actually have any genuine interest in that pathetic heap of metal scrap that you don so proudly?"

Before he could even consider slapping Loki the fuck down, Tony bumped into somebody - and boy, was this somebody super strong. Oh, crap. He should probably apologize ASAP then, shouldn't he? Regaining his balance so he wouldn't topple so undignified in front of Loki, Tony looked up and opened his mouth to do so.

The apology never left his lips as his mouth remained agape and his eyes widened, not even noticing Loki's own gaze dart up away from his phone to acknowledge the person he had bumped into.

Tony finally did manage to get some words out as he straightened his posture and looked up at the blonde with his hair tied back, wearing a faded crimson dress shirt, blue jeans and a grey blazer.

"Captain Scandinavia, I presume?"

All he got back in response from the blonde was a perplexed stare and a quirked brow. Tony placed a hand on his chin contemplatively as he hummed in contemplation.

"Germany? No? Somewhere specific in Europe? Wait, Captain Europe makes more sense. Whatever, I'll figure it out eventually. Did they still name you after the big thunder guy up in Space Valhalla, by the way?"

"Anthony Stark?"

The tone of Thor's exclamation suggested he was asking this warily more than confirming this surely. Tony seemed to relax as his weight shifted to one leg.

"Yes and no, just call me Tony." He held out a hand. "Did they fill you in on that works, by the way?"

It was kind of sad how disappointed he kind of felt when didn't feel like his phalanges were being completely crushed as Thor firmly shook it, before holding up a phone identical to Loki's with his free hand.

"Actually, it was I who informed SHIELD of your arrival once I reviewed your medical reports and connected the data to all the events that transpired that day."

Tony watched Thor deftly swipe his thumb over the screen, and a holographic screen popped up with diagnostics that appeared to be based on his medical condition while he was out. Confused, Tony stared at the dates.

"Wait, wasn't it just two days ago that all happened?"

Loki spoke up next.

"You were unconscious for a total of three days."

Tony's jaw went slack again. Thor nodded as he placed the index finger of his other hand on the screen and swiped (much to his pleasant surprise as it _seemed_ like he knew what he was doing).

"Day 1's events revealed to us shortly after we had apprehended you that you might have been damaged beyond the armour that you bore. We noticed that the condition was not improving at all when their scientists – "

Loki cleared his throat over-dramatically.

The corner of Thor's lips quirked.

"And Loki, who took great efforts to ensure that your armour be removed as delicately as could be. As such, we placed you under heavily-monitored custody should you escape while running X-Rays."

Thor's face became grim.

"However, your lung was nearly punctured, and your spine almost broke. You did suffer minor injuries that we were able to place our full attention towards before they worsened. But there remains the fact that you may undergo severe repercussions, and that was the moment we assumed something was not right. Such a hefty blow from..." At this Thor clicked his tongue as he looked away. _"Him, _would not have wrought such impact damage on you, since our belief is that you are a superhuman."

Tony couldn't help but wince.

As much as he hated being around doctors (well, when they had to look at him anyway), he was pretty grateful for what this Dr. Olson and his team were able to do. Whoever was taking Bruce's place here was somebody he was not entirely looking forward to meeting.

Then Loki took a step forward so he was next to Thor, and peered at the diagnostics with a blank face, and there were so many weird things happening already but seeing Loki and Thor just standing so close like there was absolutely nothing wrong between them, instead of trying to beat the crap out of each other, was something Tony almost wanted to comment on.

"You should consider yourself most fortunate that your flimsy shell was strong enough to handle that blow," Loki remarked.

Nah, the comment could wait.

"Cute," Tony retorted flatly as Thor scrolled to another list of data.

"Day 1 slipped into Day 2. When your vitals stabilized, our goal was to focus on the energy contained in the metal object within your chest." He nodded towards the blue glow from Tony's shirt. "We have discovered electromagnetic energy in the first few observations, which is why we were uncertain whether or not the scans of your body we obtained were fully correct or not."

"Yet out of all places you would choose to place such a power source, it's within your own body," Loki added.

Tony felt his own eye twitch. Deciding restraining himself wasn't worth it, he opened his mouth once more, just as Thor shot Loki a warning look before Tony could respond scathingly.

"Lock the princess in the dungeon, have a dragon guard it, and make the dragon swallow the key," Thor chided. "Brother, please try to be more cordial."

Loki rolled his eyes.

"Your wisdom is out of context here, Thor. You see, what if the princess is the dragon as well?"

Tony guffawed.

"And just who are you calling princess, princess?"

Loki simply sneered back as Thor looked back up to Tony, pity in his expression.

"A few of the doctors and scientists who were not given enough information rushed blindly in for the next part of the examinations, which we aborted the moment your vitals dropped when they took it out."

Loki's sneer faded, and Tony's eyes bulged.

"You _took it out?" _the engineer practically balked, and only now realized that he had placed a hand protectively over where the reactor was for the past few minutes. "You had the X-Rays, _why?"_

"Again, we believed that the radiation from your fusion energy device may have somehow tampered with our – "

"Bullshit," Tony exclaimed, and was he actually trembling? "It would have been _me _that would be affected by the radiation from the X-Rays if they somehow even affected the arc reactor. Damn it, Thor, why didn't you listen to the scientists? You gotta let them handle this!"

At this, Thor's gaze narrowed.

"I _did,_ Mr. Stark. I was the one who was banging against the glass prison with one hand and the medical reports in my other, demanding they cease immediately otherwise risk the shrapnel continuing its journey to your heart."

Loki's eyes flew wide open, and his lips parted.

Tony flinched again as his fingers clenched into a fist over his arc reactor. "A whole day was spent on that," Thor said as he scrolled through one last page of data. "After that, we essentially concluded that we were not going to figure out much until you would awaken."

The holographic screen slipped back into the phone as Thor's face softened considerably, all sympathy and guilt.

"I am most sorry, Tony Stark."

And he really _did_ sound sorry.

Something twisted in Tony's gut as he recalled storming away from a very upset Norse god back home. He shook his head right away as he laughed it off.

"Nah, don't be, big guy! What are you apologizing for? We've only just met." He clapped a hand onto Thor's shoulder (did Thor startle? Nah, Thor didn't ever startle). "Plus, you got a whole country on your shoulders to deal with anyway. Oh, um, by the way, any chance you can convince your brother here to let me use one of the building's – "

"Don't do it, Thor," Loki interjected swiftly, turning his attention back to the tall blonde.

Thor blinked.

"What is this about?"

"I need a lab," Tony answered.

"Which he will _not_ be getting under any circumstances," Loki said through clenched teeth.

"Your brother needs to get that stick out of his ass and let _me_ touch _my_ _stuff."_

"I do _not _have a stick anywhere near my ass, and you are _not _going anywhere near your armour until I am finished with it, nor are you getting a facility to yourself. Which reminds me, I need to warn Amelia about this before you two meet."

Thor looked puzzled. He began pointing at himself, but stopped when Loki shushed him and raised a finger to the older of the siblings' lips.

Tony gasped as he stared accusingly back and forth between the two brothers.

"You gave him – _him, _your _stepbrother, Thor – _a whole damn _research and development lab?" _

Both Loki and Thor actually seemed to be very stunned by this, and it was then that Tony remembered that no, none of them _did _tell Tony that they weren't actually related.

It was Thor that relaxed first as he shrugged.

"I do still count as family."

"But what the hell are _you _gonna ever need with a _lab?"_

Thor pursed his lips into a half-offended pout, though Tony got this weird feeling that it wasn't just half.

"Quite a few things, surprisingly enough."

Tony pointed straight at him as he glanced back to Loki.

"If he gets one, I get one."

Loki rolled his eyes.

"That isn't how it works, Stark. Such persistence and such nerve from you. I much preferred it while you were in a coma having drugs fed to you via an intravenous – "

He suddenly paused.

"Marijuana," Loki said, revelation softening his voice.

Thor and Tony's brows creased upwards in confusion.

It was Tony who understood what Loki meant first when he groaned.

"Oh, wow. No, seriously, _wow._ Well, certainly took you long enough to get it!"

There was a momentarily lapse of awkward silence between the three.

"...please?"

"_No."_

* * *

"Bruce, Steve, I hate it there. There are not enough words to describe the amount of loathing I have for that place. Also, G.I. Joe who is now He-Man – please get the hell out of that asinine Halloween costume. You're not making this any better for me to cope with."

Bruce, wearing glasses and a lab coat, and Steve, donning a helmet with wings _over flowing, long blond hair _and wearing armour and _a billowing cape _exchanged glances for a moment, before they looked back towards Tony within the Stark Tower penthouse.

"Here's a thought: why don't you listen to me more often?" Bruce suggested as Tony sifted through the drinks in his cabinets. "Then you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Here's a thought," Tony retorted as he pulled out a bottle of Mexican tequila. He paused, as though contemplating whether or not that this was the time for it as he looked back towards the two. "Why is it that you've got a lab coat and it's not blowing in wherever the wind is coming from right now and it's only _Norse God of America Steven Rogers _who's getting that treatment?"

Bruce just shook his head as Tony popped open the bottle.

"Has it occurred to you that maybe this isn't real?"

"Oh, don't worry, Bruce, I figured that out a while back." He grabbed a glass with two ice cubes and began to pour generously. He set down the bottle and picked up the drink. "Which is why I can totally drink this without worrying about any hangovers when I wake up since I took aspirin before I got here. Honestly, though, kind of wish this wasn't the dream. I'd rather have the reality that I'm currently stuck in actually not be a reality."

Steve was the one who spoke next.

Actually, he _boomed _and _echoed._

_"Art thou so distressed and unsettled, fellow comrade of mine, that thy thoughts are – "_

Tony nearly choked on the tequila.

"Oh my God, Steve, _Steve!_ Stop!"

_"But soft! Why doth thou sir Antonius of ye Stark family bequeath a god to – "_

"No, I mean it, just don't. Talk. _Please."_

Steve closed his mouth, rather disappointed, hair and cape still flying wherever his own personal wind was coming from. A crack of thunder could be heard very faintly from a distance. Bruce raised a hand in front of his mouth, hiding the smile that threatened to become a laugh.

Tony sighed as he downed the glass (no burn, tasted like watermelon, definitely _not _tequila). He glanced down at the reflection in the black stone of his counter. "You know, I'm probably never going to be able to look at myself the same way ever again," he muttered.

His reflection scoffed in agreement.

Wait.

_Damn it._

A hand shot out through the counter, and before Tony could even cry for help, he found himself dropping his glass and being yanked right back outside of the Earth's atmosphere in the burning grip of his evil twin.

Eyes blinked red as Anthony gave a manic grin and _ripped _out the arc reactor, prompting Tony to fall to his knees on whatever he was standing on. The very mortal version of the two looked up towards his immortal counterpart, blood already trailing out of his mouth and skin going pale.

"I need that," Tony wheezed, shaking uncontrollably.

His evil twin just chuckled as he looked down at him.

"Not anymore you don't," his other self replied. He tilted his neck tauntingly. "And, well, here's the big twist as to why: you're not Tony Stark anymore."

Tony watched as the god's body shimmered, watching his reflection return to the way it was. His goatee regrew, his hair shortened, and that stupid leather coat and armour shifted into a dark T-shirt and jeans. His eyes remained tinted amber as he held up the arc reactor. "I'm gonna borrow this for a second, if you don't mind."

If Tony had enough strength to punch his balls, he would have. He deserved it.

"Of course I deserve it," Anthony said. He crouched down, one arm outstretched away from Tony. "When have I ever cared whether or not people minded what I do?"

Tony kept his jaw clenched shut as he glowered fiercely back into his own eyes. Anthony remained smug as he glanced behind him.

"You can have him now, Reindeer Games."

Tony froze.

And there was that cold grip back at his neck as he watched Anthony walk through a hole in space, back into his world, _his world. _There was Pepper, all warm, knowing smile that he missed so much as she walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, ran fingers through his brown hair, cupped his chin and returned that sweet smile Anthony gave that Tony _knew _was composed of a bunch of shit.

He didn't want to see this, and yet, Tony could not take his eyes away from this as he watched her kiss him. His stomach wrenched, his heart pounded fiercely; no, fuck, this was wrong. All of it was wrong. Pepper, _that's not me, don't, no, I'm here, he's my evil twin, can't you see that? Pepper, I thought you knew me the most out of anybody. Don't leave me, please. Come back, I'm sorry._

"Had enough, Stark?"

He didn't even want to see Loki leering at him right now, but he decided to humour the true God of Lies once more as he looked back at him.

"Don't let go."

As expected, Loki didn't listen as he released him.

* * *

"Goddammit!" was the first thing Tony shouted as he woke up, hand clutching the center of his chest as he sat in the bed provided to him, sweat clinging to his body as he gulped in air. Groaning, he slowly dropped his hand, and the uncovered light of his arc reactor spilled out, illuminating the darkened room in a cool blue that helped him breathe much easier, though did nothing to settle his nerves.

He looked at the clock on one of his nightstands.

4:52 PM. Nine to ten hours of sleep. Way more sleep than he normally got.

Still didn't help anything.

Shit. _Shit. _What if his evil twin was really back in his world, pretending to be him? God, there would be shit to pay if his evil twin was doing that right now. Was time moving forward normally back in his world anyway, or did it stop when he went into this one? No, _no, _his head was starting to hurt again. One thing at a time.

Jesus, though. He knew he made jokes about life model decoys every now and then, and he had even tried JARVIS in one of his Iron Man suits to a SHIELD meeting, but now, it wasn't something he wanted to encourage or joke about.

Speaking of JARVIS...

Reaching next to the bed (after swatting aside that stupid fabric draped over the top and sides of this damn bed's canopy frame), Tony tossed aside the shirt he had worn earlier and rummaged for his pants. Digging into his pocket, he found what he should have pulled out the moment he had woken up on SHIELD's floor: his phone.

It still had a few hours of power left. That would suffice for now until he found a charger – no, wait, StarkPhones had specific chargers. Out of all the times Tony decided not to carry around the solar-powered prototype. Fine, when he built himself another charger when Loki finally caved. Swiping fingers across the screen, he configured a few commands here and there before he spoke.

"JARVIS, you there?"

The response was immediate and definitely helped calm Tony down.

"Always, sir."

For the first time in a long while, Tony grinned.

"Good. Listen, JARVIS, I figured it out." Tony raised a finger. "Now, don't freak out when I tell you this, but we are in a completely different dimension from the universe we are normally accustomed to."

As anticipated, JARVIS' reply was nothing short of curt.

"I am incapable of 'freaking out', sir. I am also inclined to ask whether or not you are currently intoxicated." There was a small pause. "However, since I detect that all your vitals appear to be easing into a regular pulse rate, I will refrain from doing so."

Tony rolled his eyes as he flopped back on the mattress.

"I'll take that as a 'yes, I do believe you no matter how ridiculous that sounds'."

"That wasn't what I said."

"It is now, and it's what you've got to believe right now." Tony's grin dissolved, and his gaze became firm. "But we're not staying here for long. I want to get out of here as soon as possible, even if I have to figure out how the hell I'm gonna do it. For now, I need you to send a message back to Stark Tower on the main Avengers line."

"Yes, sir. Connecting to Stark Tower now."

Tony watched as a small animation of a signal connecting popped up on his screen. It startled him when there was a negative _beep _and a red CONNECTION FAILED appeared very quickly afterwards.

"Unable to connect."

Not this garbage again. Tony ran a hand through his hair and down his face as he gave an exclamation of disappointment.

"JARVIS, if you can still function in the Mark VII and function on my phone, then that means you're connected straight to any of your AI cores within every place I put them in, which in turn are linked straight to the source of where all those cores draw you from. All of these come from our dimension." He frowned. "Why can't you get through then?"

"I am unsure of the reasons for this, sir," JARVIS responded. "I also recall that there is a chip within the Mark VII you added recently to act independently in situations such as this after the Chitauri attack."

Well, that was an unpleasant memory so shortly after another nightmare involving it.

That also meant that _the suit _was where JARVIS's current main core was.

"Would you like me to try again?" the AI asked.

Tony's frown became glum and bleak.

"JARVIS," he murmured. "You know the math. I made sure you always knew the math. You know it won't work at this point."

There was a moment of silence, before JARVIS answered.

"I do, sir. The probability – "

"I know the math too, JARVIS. You don't need to tell me either." Tony forced a smile. "But hey, thanks for trying anyway. That's what counts the most right now."

Another pause.

"It is my pleasure, sir." The red faded as a wire frame of the Mark VII began to assemble on the StarkPhone's screen. "While I cannot connect back to my cores, as long as the chip remains within the Mark VII, I can connect from that to this phone."

"Which means not only can't you upload anything to the servers, but you can't even grab a kilobyte of stuff from them."

"Correct. Uploading and saving diagnostics of the Iron Man Mark VII now."

As Tony's eyes glazed over the image of his suit appearing on screen, as well as all damaged areas (left arm especially, he _had _to fix that left arm somehow), he wondered briefly if there was even a way to go back home without that ring. SHIELD had it was the only issue – and not on one of this tower's floors either. No, they legit had the _only thing_ he knew he could use to go back to where he belonged.

Tony sat up and leaned back against the bed's backboard, tapping his fingers against the arc reactor in his chest to no particular rhythm as he stared out the window of Infinity Industries' tower.

_Maybe_ _I miss everything more than I think I do._

It was not a thought he wanted to entertain, not when there was a very important he needed to obtain.

And there was no way he'd let anybody – not Loki, not SHIELD, and especially not that _poser _– get in the way of that.

Anthony sat up and leaned back against the door of the building's highest floor, tapping his fingers against the gem on his gold chestplate to no particular rhythm as he stared through a window of Infinity Industries' tower.

* * *

_And there's Thor! We'll definitely be seeing quite a bit more of him, Natasha, and Clint as the story progresses, as well as watching Tony try to find the yellow brick road back home while fighting against Loki's stubbornness and Anthony's dickery. But with Thor here, that means we've only got one more of the Avengers to meet, and there will be two other characters from the Marvel comics universe that I will be adapting for this story. They are male and female; both were villains, and one of them will remain a villain in here.  
_

_But in my opinion, the character I'm most happy about is JARVIS! We'll be seeing him and his Master Stark working together next chapter as Tony tries to put the pieces of this puzzle together a little more. Also, thank you so much to everyone who's been supporting this so far! This fic will do its best to update __**every Wednesday evening **__either __**weekly or bi-weekly**__ with school and work starting soon. _

___Also, if you would like to see the impractical piece of furniture Tony kept whining about, look up "The Keating" on Google Images. It's near two windows in a bedroom. (It's totally black and green in this fic.)_


	8. There's Always Back Doors

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on. **  
Disclaimer: **This is now slapped with a giant "freeform - SCIENCE" tag because the extent of my cryptology knowledge as well as programming and what have you that makes Tony Stark such a bloody brilliant genius goes to a few hours Googling and maybe a one-hour cryptology class I attended for research purposes, and therefore, I don't think I can ever hit that level of genius. Also, everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **First off, I owe you all another apology for not posting this last Wednesday! While I would like to blame school starting again primarily for this was well as hitting the big 2-0 two weeks ago – the writer's block that stood in my way was my right hand and its wrist cramping up as of the past few weeks. The pain is still there; I suspect it has something to do with my terrible posture and super tall desk. But luckily, the doctor said it wasn't anything incredibly serious and did recommend I buy a wrist brace if it continues to bother me and let my fingers relax a little more – if I'm not exercising them to make sure the strain doesn't get worse.

Also, take this not only as a heads-up but another apology: to the non tech-savvy, I apologize for frustrating you with potentially confusing jargon. To the comp-sci majors, I apologize for infuriating you with potentially misused jargon.

* * *

There was a lover in the world that guaranteed you satisfaction once you understood how her mind worked. There was a complexity to her that was simple once you'd give her a few calls, go on a few dates, _really _understand her until she became a big part of your life. There was a beauty to her that was overshadowed by her sister of creativity, art and words – when in reality both of them were just as hot and could make beautiful things together.

That beauty was something that not everyone appreciated. They didn't give effort into even glancing at her, instead choosing to turn their noses in the opposite direction with a snooty huff of dismissal – not out of hatred, perhaps, but out of ignorance, fear, and inferiority that she is far too overwhelmingly complicated for their close-minded, rotting brains. They spit venomously towards her, they complain selfishly about how much she imposes on them, and they even go so far as to throw her to the ground viciously, or burn her, assuming they no longer thought they needed her anymore.

Such shallowness was why few could open their eyes to the beauty of mathematics.

And honestly, you'd think math teachers and professors would be willing to try and show people just how important this stuff is to your everyday life other than figuring out how much change you owe the cashier. Math was everywhere, and thus math could explain everything – hell, math _was _everything. It was the base of many sciences, of philosophy and metaphysics, and it could even explain the universe. It had to; math was logic, and if it wasn't logical that meant it bended facts and the rules of the universe.

"JARVIS, do a search on 'Norse Mythology Anthony'."

This was clearly not that universe.

It was 7 PM now, and after Tony had finished downloading the full diagnostics and specifics of the Mark VII, he had shut down his phone for that moment and went off to eat, going down to one of the middle floors where there were a few food vendors and small cafes. Surprisingly enough, Clint and Natasha hadn't been waiting right outside his door once he left his room and navigated to the main elevator. It was weird that they still weren't stalking him – that, or he had no idea that they were actually stalking him.

He'd expect that from those two, honestly, but it didn't help freak him out less.

It prompted him to stop chewing the spring roll, pork, and rice vermicelli stuffed in his mouth. He lowered a pair of sunglasses he had bought earlier from a convenience store (stolen, technically, by lying to a very terrified desk cashier that it was being covered by Mr. Lawson and the notice should go out soon about housing him) on one of the lower floors (and come to think of it, seriously, did they really need that? The food court he got but this was a company, not a mall) and scanned the area quickly for red and brown hair.

"Sir, I have found several articles linked to Norse Mythology with the surnames Faukes, Winterbourne, and Hopkins."

"Not interested if it isn't specifically about a Norse God by the name of Anthony Stark." Tony swallowed and reached his chopsticks for the last bundle of noodles and spring roll at the bottom of the take-out Styrofoam carton. Against his better judgment, he had turned on JARVIS after purchasing Vietnamese, and while the StarkPhone had at most three hours of power left, this was important. A lot of things were important. "Narrow down the search terms, get as much precise results as you can."

The phone blinked before a few results popped up.

"There is a Wikipedia article pertaining to your super-villain doppelganger and how he claims to be a god," JARVIS replied. "There are comments left around the article, which appear to be irrelevant and leaning towards defacements and outraged slander, such as threats for your death, demanding you leave and spare them all, and comments such as the lowercase letter 'u' accompanied by a misspelling of sucking monkey genitals."

Well, wasn't that a mind-blowing and totally unexpected surprise. "Him, JARVIS, not _me," _Tony retorted, purposely avoiding looking at the StarkPhone as he placed his chopsticks inside the empty container and reached for a napkin. "Give me some more details."

"Yes, sir," JARVIS responded. A pause, before the AI spoke up again. "The Discussion section of this article, as well as a few other websites, appear to be debating the natures of your – "

Tony coughed purposely against the napkin.

"_His_ origin. The most frequent argument is that you are an alien or a governmental experiment gone wrong and mad, simply claiming to be a god because there is no god in any mythology by the name of Anthony."

At this, Tony frowned.

"That's not right," he muttered, picking up the phone this time and scrolling through the forums. "That can't be right, you missed something." He cringed at the amount of anger and venom each argument, proper grammar or not, presented. He pointed at one of the paragraphs. "Hey, see, here's one: Antinous, Greek god. Guy was apparently an asshole trying to hit on Odysseus' wife. Sounds about right."

A pause.

"For _him," _Tony stressed, prompting JARVIS to continue speaking.

"While the post's argument is convincing, it remains that Anthony appears to have self-titled himself to be the God of Chaos and Calamity, according to witness accounts who claimed he called himself that, and only a few have drawn connections to him potentially being the Norse God of Mischief."

The napkin crumpled in Tony's other hand before he tossed it into the empty container.

"Do a search on the Norse God of Mischief then."

"Yes, sir."

A wave of results instantly appeared.

"I'm going to have to start taking shots every time I have to call out bullshit here,"Tony groused as he stared at the majority of "Loki" that had popped up. "There is no way that's right. Here's a possibility, actually; maybe I'm not the only one from my world in this world so somebody goes and, you know, makes things like ours for the sake of not going insane. If not, then this universe rotates everything beyond just the limit of 180 degrees, because out of all the things _this _is left untouched?"

This was getting ridiculous. A headache threatened to surface anytime soon.

"Whatever," the billionaire from another universe muttered. "Google 'Loki' and see if it's pretty much the same stuff."

And there was the beginning of that headache.

"I'm starting to like that 'governmental experiment gone wrong and crazy' idea better."

"I imagine you would, sir. Shall I pull up the Poetic Edda now?"

"No, JARVIS," Tony groaned, eyes glued to the top results displaying the Iron Man and the God of Mischief. "I'm just more surprised than I should be, I'll say that. This feels precisely like that car model two-weeks ago – the one who ran off with my Prada loafers which you _should _have told me about."

"They were _white_ and they were _Prada,_ sir. I felt it was in my best interest that they left your possession."

"They were hand-tailored and custom-made, for crying out loud!" Tony defended. "God, what kind of sensible, smart human being decides to take on the God of Lies' name anyway? That's like naming your kid Lucifer."

He stood up, tossing the carton into the trash before he walked down the hall.

"I need to get my hands on this ring somehow," Tony decided. He frowned again. "Of course, knowing SHIELD enough in any universe, they've probably got the thing locked behind dozens of reinforced doors in their main base, and even if I had the suit to fly to where they were, they're gonna be tough to find if the door's not in front of us and wide open."

He suddenly stopped.

There were always back doors.

"JARVIS, let me know if you can detect SHIELD's network downstairs so we can pinpoint the base's location," Tony requested, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth as he continued to walk. "Actually, see if we can not only detect but _get _into their network completely."

"Yes, sir. Scanning now."

It had taken him a bit of navigating here and there to get out of the hall the guest room was in, probably because maps were hard to read and not every elevator went to every floor or was publicly available. Honestly, the whole structure of this building pissed him off.

Tony's lips pressed together. There was this part of him that kind of sort of maybe entertained the idea of rebuilding and revamping Stark Tower for the Avengers. Sure, there were a few floors right now just in case anyone needed to crash – but Tony liked having his alone time every now and then.

Metal doors slid open, and Tony stepped inside the elevator. Grateful that the button he was looking for was there, he pushed that and the doors closed.

Loki had a mansion, didn't he? He had to have a mansion if he was a rich boy in this fairy tale, everybody had a mansion. If he had a mansion, so did all the other rich boys. Loki said that he had put false signatures in one of his houses outside of the city – California, according to Clint. If this parallel wasn't completely different, that was definitely the Malibu mansion.

If anything, the mansion was a perfect choice compared to the tower. It would probably be a more suitable choice for housing everyone.

The mere fact Tony actually considered housing everyone bothered him a little (not because he himself had wondered this, nope, not at all) since this was _Loki _and when was he concerned at all about Loki's business over his own to the point where he didn't even realize that Natasha and Clint were _standing behind him holy shit when did they get there oh my god._

"If your goal was to cut off a good year of my life," Tony seethed to the brunette and redhead with folded arms, back pressed all the way up against the closed doors and glasses just balancing at the tip of his nose. "Then I hate to break it to you, but it didn't work. There are enough things I put inside me that probably subtract up to five from my lifespan."

Clint arched a brow, and Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Right, like that battery in your body?" the female of the duo chimed.

The mere fact that Clint and Natasha both knew about what the arc reactor essentially did bothered him a lot (even though he also should have expected that, they were _SHIELD agents_). His hand gripped into a fist at his side, stopping him from moving it to his chest, and Tony simply batted his eyelashes at her with a faux grin as he clicked his tongue.

"Well, okay, I guess there's that too, but I think you hit me a little too close to the heart there more than this does," he responded smoothly.

It was rather satisfying to notice that hint of bristling she did. If anything, he could have winked. Clint butt in before Tony could do just that.

"You're not hacking into SHIELD," the archer-turned-ninja said firmly.

Tony's eyes widened.

"Come on," he scoffed after a good second, faking another smile because he had been so damn sure that the bird and the spider hadn't been around when he had been eating. He stepped away from the doors as he raised his hands. "Really? In case you guys haven't noticed with you all being around, I'm pretty much under total supervision here. Also, it's hard enough getting good Wi-Fi in this building on a mobile device – which should not happen if Big Boss upstairs in his mad science laboratory is somebody involved in highly advanced technological contribution."

The doors behind him opened, and Tony briskly stepped out, walking swiftly towards the direction of his room while Clint and Natasha followed behind him, the clack of heels overwhelming the scuff of shoes.

"Don't take us for idiots, Mr. Stark," Natasha exclaimed.

"Hey, your words, Katniss, not mine."

"We've dealt with you enough to know when you're hiding something."

Tony's feet stopped walking, and he turned around to face the two again.

"Except you're missing out on the fact where this guy _is not me."_

Natasha just shrugged.

"I'd say it's close enough of a resemblance."

"In physical features, alright, maybe a few similar features there and here. In any other area, _no." _Tony rolled his eyes at her before he turned back around and reached for the handle of his door. "Now if you excuse me, Robin Hood and Maid Marian – whichever one of you is Maid Marian, part of me thinks that Clint could rock a purple mini-skirt if he wanted to – I need to take a long shower and sulk in my little corner of my prison room. And speaking of clothes, someone let Mr. Brightside upstairs know that I want my walk-in closet full by the time I step out of the bathroom shrouded in clouds of steam and more wrinkled than a two-star hotel's bed sheets, if you please."

With that, he turned the handle sharply.

The door did not grant him entrance.

Puzzlement crossed Tony's face as he turned again twice, before both hands went to the handle and he pushed down as his jaw clenched firm. He pretended he didn't notice Clint exchanging glances with Natasha, before he pulled out a green plastic card and walked next to the door, holding it up towards a small black square on the wall.

It blipped green, and Tony stumbled over his feet as the door opened.

"Totally knew that was there and it was a door lock," the engineer boasted, regaining his posture as he waved a hand towards the nightstand. "In fact, that card looks exactly like the one on my..."

All he saw was the stupid-looking lamp and the empty martini glass Loki had left behind that nobody had taken away.

It was Clint who smirked at him as he dropped the card into Tony's outstretched palm before walking away.

"And then there's people who know how to get through the front door like ants," Tony groused as the door behind his back closed with a _click_.

* * *

It would have made sense if Stark had been suspicious about Clint giving him back his card and stopped him, or even opened the door to go after the two as they walked back towards the elevator, step in perfect stride next to each other. Not only did the card imply that Clint knew how to enter the mortal man's room without it (or originally_ was _in it, for all Tony had known), but it could very well mean that Clint had bugged the card.

Which was very possible, truth be told. While Natasha's eyes were sharper and her aim more true, Clint's ears proved just as formidable, and if he couldn't sneak up on the target, then he could very well leave a bug around to do the listening for him or SHIELD.

Natasha knew this well, which is what prompted her to speak up when they stepped into the elevator again as she pulled out a blank, clear card.

"Why did you let him know?" she asked.

The card was held up to a small light, and a familiar eagle symbol illuminated on the card. It faded as the elevator dinged affirmatively, and began its descent to SHIELD's floors.

"Know what?" Clint replied. "Know that we know how he works?"

Natasha scoffed.

"Anthony Stark isn't some genius billionaire playboy philanthropist like Lawson."

"No, but you heard him yourself. He definitely knows a lot more than any of us would have guessed he knew."

Natasha turned sharply towards Clint.

"Look, I've seen and faced some strange things in the past, but I'm not sure this is the one that takes the case, _especially _when the Anthony Stark we want is out on the loose." She lowered her gaze challengingly. "Except how do you know this isn't him? How do you know he isn't playing us all for fools?"

"Tasha – "

"And no, this isn't about _that," _she snapped.

And Clint knew better than to prod her on lying so unconvincingly to his face. The man simply shrugged as he turned away from her, lifting his chin up to glance at the top of the elevator.

"Well, give it a few hours before I let you know what I really think."

* * *

**_Captain's Log  
Date: June 17__th__, 2012_**

_It is Day 2 – although, according to SHIELD and everybody else, it is apparently Day 5 since I've been here in this strange new world. While it is my utmost desire to leave this godforsaken, terrible place, and go back to the comforts and shelters of home, I currently do not have the means of doing this nor finding out how to do this. My artificial intelligence's battery as well as my only power source to infiltrate is running scarce, and with SHIELD's main network so far out of reach, there is little hope I have in succeeding infiltrating their networks with my state-of-the-art decryption program until I get a bigger and better means. I do have an idea on how to do just that – but in order to place that plan in motion, I will have to execute a much bigger plan first._

_With that established, I've decided to embark on a mission of greater ambition that would leave most men shaking in their boots – but I am not most men, and most men are not me. I am Tony Stark, and tonight, I am going to hack Loki Lawson's motherboard. _

_The primary goal is not to extract data, but to gain access into Loki's security networks and successfully upload code Alpha-One: 'Daddy's Home', filename: 'JARVIS' into the core system for future use, as my use of JARVIS only goes so far with the chip implanted in the Mark VII. It is far too risky to attempt to activate the Mark VII and route its vision to this phone, so we will simply attempt to get into a much bigger network so we can gain access to resources capable of infiltrating SHIELD. _

_By no means does this mean disabling Loki's excuse for Siri; if anything, I could hook him up. No pun intended. Regardless, my partner-in-crime and virtual butler has willingly agreed to assist me in such a dangerous mission with the side bonuses of getting a girlfriend._

"I remember doing no such thing, sir."

_WILLINGLY agreed to assist me in such a dangerous mission. _

"I also believe I am quite content with bachelorism for the time being_."_

_JARVIS, for God's sake, shut up for a second. I am trying to be dramatically serious and you are ruining my equally as dramatically serious audio diary and any chance I have of getting an Oscar. And no, I don't want you giving me this "oh, bloody hell, sir, this isn't anything out of the ordinary". Okay? _

_...wow, not even some snarky comment about how bad that English accent was? Good boy!_

_Now, based on my observations, this will be far from an easy task. But I am willing to accept the challenge and face it head-on, and even if it takes all my blood, sweat, and tears, my goal is to succeed, not to fail. However, if the Boolean of this world was calculated correctly, if Loki catches me...I may not come out of this alive. He may even send some kind of strange human-infecting virus once he discovers us to infect not only JARVIS but poison me and kill me within the prison of his citadel._

"Sir, my coordinates tell me that you appear to be located in a bathroom sitting on a latrine."

This was what prompted Tony to groan in frustration as he stared at the phone in front of his face while his pants pooled at his feet around his ankles.

"JARVIS, _please,_ I have more dignity than to scheme while taking a shit – although, I find that you get some of the best ideas that way next to long morning showers. Besides, many great men have died on the toilet."

"I suppose only fools do rush in, but I will place this information into my database under human behavioural habits."

An eye-roll before Tony set down the phone on the sink's counter to his left side.

"I find it a teeny bit unsettling and just a tad bit honoured you're documenting how the homosapien race works, but that can wait."

His gaze hardened.

"We've got at most an hour to pull this off, and unless Green Eyes lets me into his goddamn lab, there's no chance I can connect a mirrored shortcut of your programming onto any laptop or tablet." Tony sat up straighter. "What do you say to that?"

A pause.

"Mission accepted."

Tony's lips quirked upwards.

"That's better. Now, are you ready?"

"Whenever you are, sir."

Honestly, Tony had been ready way before he had even given a shit. (Whether or not that was something to take figuratively or literally wasn't important right now.)

If anybody asked Tony what his opinions were on hacking – well, the first thing he'd say back is what type of hacking because ever Angelina Jolie and Jonny Lee Miller decided it was a good idea to hook up and put it to shame eighteen years ago, that term has never been able to recover its true honour and art form in the perception of humanity.

The second thing he would say is how black hat hacking, often pegged as malicious intent, was the reason why social media was so prominent nowadays thanks to a bright Harvard drop-out. He had always been one of the more reckless (if not industrious and far more superior) students amongst all the older computer science snobs who thought they could do better – but when you successfully launch a single-handed DDoS on every single page of MIT's website only an hour after they threaten to shut the only good coffee place within the campus down, you definitely make your stance on hacking well-known without having to even utter a syllable.

Tony was no stranger to cyber-based infiltration, and the media was no stranger to Tony not being a stranger to cyber-based infiltration. Because of this, he knew how to build a pretty good security system (which SHIELD needed to _stop compromising how were they even doing that) – _and if Loki was really anything like him, then it was time he knew what he was up against.

"Green light, go!"

"Scanning for networks now."

The phone's screen lit up with the connecting signal animation. Less than ten seconds later, the screen blinked green.

"Heavily encrypted private network within the building parameters found. Connecting to network now."

A small window prompting two specific text inputs appeared.

"Network found. Username and password required," JARVIS said.

Who the hell did Loki think he was kidding? Tony gave a barking laugh as he shook his head.

"You're telling me _this _is the heavily encrypted private network's front door? JARVIS, open a side window and show me what this thing actually is."

"Yes, sir. Converting to source code now."

A small blue pinpoint of light lit up at the far end of the phone's frame, and a holographic screen popped up as letters, numbers, and symbols appeared in Tony's vision. It scrolled momentarily and stopped shortly after.

"Scroll through it backwards by a quarter of the original speed."

"Yes, sir."

The coding began scrolling again. Tony's eyes darted furiously back and forth as he skimmed through it, looking for some type of –

"Stop!"

The code became idle, and Tony jabbed his index finger near the middle left side of the holographic screen.

"Right there in that hash table, that sneaky little bitch right there. I don't care if everything else is right, thirteen-modulo-seven does _not_ equal three. I therefore conclude indubitably that part is just for show for all those script kiddies who think they're hot stuff until they fall for this. JARVIS, get rid of all of that and load the code afterwards."

A large chunk of the ciphertext vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Inputting and loading code now."

Tony inhaled.

"Network successfully re-established."

The information on the StarkPhone itself disappeared, and everything appeared on the projection as the simple username and password prompt window vanished in place of something different – and boy, was it a whole different thing entirely.

Tony couldn't help but whistle at the circle rimmed with an array of triangles appearing smack dab in front of him. As much as he hated to admit it, Loki was _good._

"JARVIS, is that what I think it is?" he asked.

"Absolutely, sir. That is indeed the Wheel of Fortune. Would you like to spin to win?"

Tony narrowed his eyes.

"I have not been programmed to analyze facial expressions, sir. I am unsure of what you are trying to convey to me as such."

"_JARVIS."_

"Very well." The StarkPhone's main glass screen lit up again with new information. "This is a substitution-based cryptosystem very loosely based on the chain of Caesar ciphers the German military utilized back in World War II; a system that was considered unbreakable until the 1930's, when the Polish Cipher Bureau successfully figured out a method of decryption via mathematical logic and analyses."

Tony's eyes lit up.

"Enigma," he murmured.

"Yes, sir."

"Funny how I thought for a second he'd use Navajo or Zimmerman as his top influences so this would make my life easier – not the classics." Tony sighed as he lifted a hand up to his chin. "On the other hand, I remember now that Enigma probably explains why I like Polish women. Had to put together a bunch of damn shifts together for the piece de resistance of the Vigenère cipher. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure Vigenère wasn't the actual guy who – Bellagio? No, Belasso. Was it Belasso or Bellagio? Yeah, Belasso. Pretty sure it was Belasso who did it first."

"Sir."

"God, I _despised_ that class, way too much showing and not enough _doing._ Seriously, if I wanted to take history, I would have majored in Political Science, not real science."

"Sir?"

"The online computational linguistics class was more entertaining than goddamn crypto."

"_Master Stark?"_

That seemed to do the trick. Tony cleared his throat as he shook his head and looked back at his phone.

"Do we know how much anything shifted?" he asked.

"No, sir."

"If it's Enigma, I don't see how we don't. How many encryptions are we looking at?"

"I appear to detect five."

Tony snorted.

"Only five? Okay, we'll figure out the shifts then. Bring it on!"

The triangles around the rim morphed.

"Actually, no, five is good. Five is perfectly fine. The only question is – and I'm getting tired of this stuff surprising me when it shouldn't surprise me, honestly – the question is why all this crap is in Greek or Cyrillic because what the fuck is _that_."

Brown eyes glazed over the glowing, mostly line-based symbols around the circle as JARVIS gave an answer (rather, a correction).

"That is Futhark, sir – a Germanic rune-based lettering that is still utilized today in paganism rituals. Shall I bring out the crosses and the holy water?"

"Hardy har har, I don't need your sass today, young man. Gimme more, JARVIS; is this a whole alphabet or what?"

"Negative, sir; it appears to be a mixture of both Elder Futhark and Younger Futhark."

Well, at least Loki was generous enough to not use cipher runes. Tony sniffed, exhaling through his nostrils.

"JARVIS, grab a chair and some coffee," he exclaimed, sitting back up. He stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles. "We're gonna be pulling an all-nighter at this rate."

"Certainly, sir. How shall I prepare the Java for the evening?"

"...JARVIS?"

"Sir?"

"_Stop that."_

"Stop what, sir?" was the response, and he could have sworn he heard blatant nonchalance in the AI's voice. "May I remind you that we won't even be spending a whole night together?"

This made Tony grimace.

He never liked being reminded how time was not on his side.

"How about you perk up a little? You'll be fine so as long as you're still awake. Now, do me a favour and Romanize everything, will you?"

"Translating now."

Satisfaction flowed through Tony's veins as he watched an alphabet he was familiar with pop up next to each rune. While they didn't have a key yet, the door's restraints were weakening by every second he was successful.

"Excellent," Tony beamed, a grin breaking out on his face. "Also, _everything _was in ciphertext, including the goddamn commands. Loki's a shitty programmer. Shift every letter in this coding by three because I'm pretty sure it's not actually six; do so with any coding from this point onward unless I say otherwise. Now all we have to do is figure out his locker combination and we're good to go. How many tries are we allowed, and what happens if we don't get this right?"

"I'm not sure you'd like to see how that would pan out, sir."

"If I could look at Loki's fake front door, then I can handle the real deal. Can we cheat and look at the source code?"

There was a momentary pause, and Tony found himself crossing his fingers, hoping that this would go perfectly.

JARVIS finally spoke back up.

"It appears there are no limitations within the parameters of viewing the structure of the encryption."

Yes, perfect.

"Then hit me!" Tony commanded.

A side-window of code expanded swiftly on the glass surface of the StarkPhone.

No, never mind, not perfect.

To say that Tony winced would be an understatement as he elicited a half-strangled gasp as the scrolling continued, every character blinking thrice for the shift as it did so.

"Will you require ice for that wound, sir?"

The engineer closed his mouth as the scrolling finally stopped.

"Shut up, JARVIS, I'm being overdramatic."

"Not surprising. Shall I submit your performance to AMPAS when we return to our universe?"

Before Tony could even say anything back, something jumped out at him from the StarkPhone's surface. All clever retorts died on his tongue as his eyes widened.

Why was the word _fur _in the plaintext?

Rather, why was there clusters of gibberish in x's and z's and all sorts of common letters and symbols except for those really weird, singled-out ones like _f _and _u _and _r _jumping out at him in the clusters of...well, clusters of stuff that looked like _xxxxhhhhfhhhhaaaaauaaaaWWWWW rWWWW?_

"JARVIS, I found something," Tony muttered, squinting at the screen. "It looks completely absurd, but I think it's a clue. What the hell does _fur _have anything to do with this, though?" His eyes darted to pick out other letters. "B...and T...wait, is that it? Fur what? Fur butt? Furry butt? Furby? Furby Fatty? Fur Bowtie? Far...Farblaghblah _fuck it._ JARVIS?"

"Yes?"

One chance, and only one chance to get this right before he'd compromise any chance of him leaving this world. Tony pointed to two of the symbols back on the holographic screen.

"JARVIS, select those two F-looking things together and – here, make it look like _Ffrbf _and the forty-five degree angle, then the up arrow and the I. _'Far Body'_ or something like that. Oh, only the Elder Futhark; Loki seems like the type who would throw in the modern stuff for the sake of throwing people off."

There was a pause.

"Are you sure about this, sir?" JARVIS inquired.

Tony simply guffawed back.

"What do you think?" he answered dryly.

"...very well, then."

The symbols lit up as a small light with several star-like vertices materialized in the center of the circle. A line extended from one of its points, connecting to the first rune before moving to the second. Tony's finger followed each run until it stopped right at the I.

He took a deep breath as his heart hammered.

The whole thing turned bright green with a hum, before the star expanded and shrunk as it returned to its original bluish tinge, the symbols fading and shifting around the circle's rim.

"Input successful. The next one requires another password input."

Tony exhaled loudly.

"That," he muttered. "Was a lot more stressful than it should have been. Source code?"

The surface of the StarkPhone lit up again as new coding appeared on the screen. The pattern was just as similar as Tony scanned through it. His eyebrows knotted, and he looked back up.

"I think it's _'viridian'_. No surprise at all here. Connect that p – not the one that's a _th _sound, though, the W, pretty sure this stuff was part of the whole 'W and V are the same' English garbage back in the old days – and then the I. Heck, it's gonna be _piri, _then those two triangles pointing at each other for the D, and then _ift. _The F that sounds like A, by the way."

"Would you rather connect those dots yourself, sir?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Turn on the interactive interface then."

"I am inclined to inform you that – "

"It's going to cut your battery real short? Hey, you asked."

The screen flickered briefly.

"Interactivity activated, sir."

Tony did not hesitate whisking his finger from the center to the letters he wanted to connect, only slowing down as he stopped at the cross-shaped symbol that was apparently an N.

The circle lit up green again as the star shrank and the symbols rearranged themselves once more.

"Input successful. Converting to source code now."

The process was repeated, and Tony tried to control his excitement as his mouth murmured syllables and letters as he glanced back and forth from the unorthodox code to the programming.

_"'Schwarz'."_

The circle repeated the same cycle as its predecessors. His finger was already beginning to shake as he connected the next word.

_"'Aurum.'"_

That was the second last one. This fifth circle was the final lock to break.

At this point, he could hear his heart drumming in his ears. His free hand was clenched into a fist over his arc reactor as his chest heaved. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted in sheer exhilaration, and holy crap, when was the last time he had felt so gloriously on the edge when he had last hacked into something?

"Code," he breathed.

A red cross popped up on the StarkPhone.

"Access denied," JARVIS said.

Tony's face fell.

That's it. This was the last gate to get through, and it was going to be a tight squeeze. If he didn't make it through, it was over. There was no screwing this up now.

But was there even any hint to what the last password was?

The tip of his trembling finger accidentally brushed against the center of the screen, and the star appeared again, shining out in only four points.

An eyebrow arched on Tony's face.

A body that was far away? Maybe it wasn't actually a real body – maybe it was something else close to a body, maybe something that could be on a body. And the Latin with a hint of German? Green, black, and gold.

Shock quickly turned to utter, brilliant revelation, and Tony immediately placed his fingers in the center of the screen.

_Green Eyes,_ he thought, and stretched out the points of the star to the four letters of the final key.

The selected runes began pulsating in a bright blue glow.

"JARVIS," Tony whispered, beads of sweat forming at his brow. "Let us in."

Whatever reason JARVIS had for hesitating momentarily on that was not something Tony was willing to let slide.

"Sir – "

"Do it!"

With that, the runes stopped pulsing.

"Access granted."

The circle faded away and the star shattered. Tony lifted his hand away from the screen as the four symbols he had picked illuminated in green, arranging themselves horizontally in the center of the hologram.

Tony grinned.

He'd done it. With the almighty force of linguistics and really good eyes, Tony Stark had successfully trumped Loki Lawson's private servers and felt more rewarded than a little kid expecting gifts from Santa on Christmas morning.

Coincidentally enough, that was when he realized that the green on the Norse letters were slowly turning red.

The grin collapsed, and Tony's eyes bulged.

This wasn't being granted access to Loki's private servers or systems at all. This was being granted access to a _trap._

"Shit!" the man cried, snatching the StarkPhone urgently. "JARVIS, abort, _abort!_"

That's when the letters morphed, and the last thing Tony saw on his phone was Loki's name clearly spelled out in Roman letters before the holographic screen spluttered away and the StarkPhone's surface abruptly flickered off.

* * *

_Well. That escalated quickly. While there was a huge lack of Loki and Anthony this chapter – stay tuned, we'll be seeing them very soon (in close proximity of each other, no less!) in the next chapters. _

_I will keep to my schedule of saying I will do my best to update __**every Wednesday evening **__either __**weekly or bi-weekly**__. With my real life priorities to juggle at the moment, lean towards bi-weekly. But thank you so much again to all the readers of this fic so far!_


	9. No Men Like Me

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **Mostly Tony-centric, AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on. **  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **I'm not gonna lie: my hand hurts like _hell._ I've bought a new desk and two wrist braces (both of which I'm sure are incorrect) just to try and make sure this didn't get worse. It did get worse, but it kind of hurts less now that I managed to finish this chapter while enjoying the process. I do see a doctor later today, so hopefully I can figure out how to not keep straining my hand to the point where I have to actually see a doctor. Now I can rest easy, and you guys can enjoy the next update!

* * *

Once upon a time, there was this dirty rotten no-good jerk named Victor who just barely managed to compromise all of Tony's equipment to the point where everything connected to his systems nearly shut down.

Considering at the time that this drastically affected his updated Mark V model (to accommodate his most recent arc reactor), this was a _big deal._

This was not only what prompted Tony to begin making back-up, portable chips for JARVIS should the main core be compromised again in the future, but also why Tony made it perfectly clear in the board meeting next day after they had stopped Doom that no matter how much money and goods Latveria was willing to invest, that _no, _they were _never _going to do business with anyone or anything from that country. (Tony also made damn sure that Reed never lived down the fact one of his former lab partners had bigger self-esteem issues than Hammer did. He still reminded him on a weekly basis every chance he got.)

That was Doctor Doom.

Other than SHIELD, Tony's security parameters were built on making sure that someone like Doom (if anyone else like Doom existed – or well, if any men like Tony existed) would not be able to cause that much impairment to his systems ever again. But this didn't even encompass a side-order of hocus-pocus crap that Tony had spent _months _figuring out how to block.

This wasn't Doom.

This was _Loki._

If anything, this _should _have involved all hocus-pocus crap and less technological skill. Yet despite that assumption, _this_ was all done via the hands of technological skill. This was a finely tuned prowess, a perfectly calculated set-up that had promptly broken Tony Stark's four-year streak of successfully hacking into systems without having his own equipment that compromised in the process.

Tony lost.

"JARVIS!" Tony hissed, furiously attempting to turn his phone back on as he ran and tapped his thumb across the screen. "Come on, come on baby, come to papa."

The phone turned back on, and a password input box appeared. Immediately two seconds after, it took no time to refuse what Tony put in with a prompt red ACCESS DENIED.

Tony lost JARVIS.

The man, fuming as his dark eyes bore into what was the only means of attempting escape, spoke to the air.

"Alright, listen, you – yeah, _you,_ I know you've got eyes on me and the whole damn building," he began, voice barely composed. He took a deep breath. "And you know, not many people can easily screw JARVIS over like that. Well, considering you're not a person, it's not that big of a deal, I guess, but I digress. Anyway, believe me when I say this is me currently being as civil as I can possibly be at this moment when I say 'give my baby back or I swear I will fry every one of your circuits and connections straight to the _core'."_

The air spoke back.

"I am obliged to inform you that I've been programmed to not negotiate with terrorists, Mr. Stark 2.0," SIGYN replied primly.

Tony muttered something under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"I am also obliged to inform you that Master Loki has a personal message for you, Mr. Stark 2.0."

There was a pause after the female artificial intelligence had spoken, before Loki could be heard over the sound systems of the house.

"Stark," the man said, and Tony could perfectly picture the no-nonsense, don't-fuck-around scowl across his pale face and green eyes. "I have been generous enough to extend _such_ courtesy to you. I offer you a form of shelter from not only the weather but the dangers of Manhattan; the latter category of which contains SHIELD and your doppelganger. Yet you abuse my generosity with such ungratefulness as you attempt to breach my security systems and threaten SIGYN, both physically and verbally."

Well, _yeah, _she asked for it the moment JARVIS was threatened.

Tony's thumb moved to power off his phone.

His imagination furthered as he pictured Loki lowering his glare while he drawled on.

"I suppose reprimanding you will do absolutely nothing, but allow me to make it clear how much this courtesy weighs and whether or not you can afford it."

And suddenly his image of Loki shifted as his hair had grew back out, his coat replaced a stylish casual, and his eyes flickered as he snarled.

"You _will _know your place while you are under my rule, Stark, and make no mistake that if you even so much as _think _about launching an attack on my systems again, I will have you suffer under my wrath before I wash my hands and pass you over to SHIELD permanently."

Tony lost it.

He stood up immediately, pulling up his pants, re-pocketing his phone and walking towards the sink.

"Now, allow me to go over the house rules once more so I don't have to say them again," Loki continued, passive and condescending. He heard him clearing his throat. "Rule Number One: thou shall not lay thy filthy hands upon what does not belong to thee. Rule Number Two: thou shall always wash thy filthy hands after using a washroom. Rule Number Three..."

Tony didn't have to be told twice as he turned the faucet off and walked straight out of his bathroom door. Not paying any heed to the other billionaire's voice, he walked right out of his own room as well, not even bothering for a few seconds to grab his card key, and made his way towards the main elevator.

The doors slid open. Tony stepped inside and pushed his finger against the button numbered 90.

His face was grim when the doors closed.

"...and finally," Loki said, hands behind his back and body facing the sliding doors to his lab as Tony stormed through the hall and past them. "We come to Rule Number Twenty: thou shall not _ever _barge into my laboratories uninvited, unless I allow SIGYN to grant thee access."

Tony's face remained grim. Loki seemed greatly entertained by his mere presence.

"What brings you here against Rule Twenty, Stark?"

The intruder inhaled sharply through his nose.

Okay. The plan was to stay as civil as he possibly could at the moment. Sure, it didn't go well with SIGYN, but maybe here – right in front of Loki Lawson, Not the God of Lies and Mischief and Not Immortal Brother to Immortal Thor – maybe here it with go well.

Tony breathed out, opened his mouth, and proceeded to calmly and rationally negotiate his terms.

"_Give him back,"_ he growled threateningly.

Ah, the joys of already knowing when things wouldn't come out as planned.

The innocence flowing through Loki's wide eyes and agape mouth was about as real and genuine as affordable technology from Eastern Asia.

"I haven't the faintest idea who _he _is," he replied most shamelessly.

It took every bit of self-control Tony had to not lunge at Loki as he took several steps forward, just a few steps away from the elevated desk. The black-haired man tilted his head back and to the side as his eyebrows creased in faux concern.

"Do you mourn for someone?" Loki inquired. He gave a small gasp, lifting a hand over his mouth. "My, how insensitive of me! I can have someone send up a basket. SIGYN, request Amelia to drop a basket off in our guest's room, won't you please? He's quite distressed about his loss."

It took every bit of self-control Tony had to not _punch _Loki once he had lunged forward and yanked the man's tie and collar – the other hand hovering several inches away from Loki's head into a tightly balled fist.

Loki's humour and mischievous charm vanished instantaneously.

"Unhand me."

"_No."_

"That was _not_ a request, Anthony – "

The brown-haired man jerked his hand again, tightening his grip and twisting so that Loki would be forced to move forward. The green Iron Man simply frowned as he gave an exasperated, restrained sigh.

"_Stark." _His eyes met Tony's, disdainful and judging._ "_Despite your foolish anger, your threats are as empty as empty can value. Despite my compromised position, you have nothing in your hands you can use against me. It's my words that hold substance – "

"You think your threats mean _anything_ to me right now, Snowball?" Tony swiftly interrupted (not caring one bit if he may have just spat against Loki's cheeks or nose judging by how the other man flinched in disgust). The shorter of the two scoffed. "You should know by now that I only really abide by one rule, and that's my own. Here's that Golden Rule: unless your name is Tony Stark, you do _not _touch my stuff."

Loki laughed, waving his hand aside.

"Oh, come now, Mr. Stark, it was just a bit of harmless fun – "

"Like hell it is!"

Loki frowned again, before he wrenched Tony's grip off him and shoved the shorter man away, nearly causing him to trip over the elevated ground. The engineer regained his balance quickly, however, and he glared fiercely back towards Loki as he jabbed his finger forward.

"Give me back my AI."

"I do not have him, Stark. If you recall, I didn't take it away; I simply had your AI denied access when it attempted to overthrow my own."

Loki was smug as his head raised ahead, looking down (quite literally) at Tony. Tony did not waver; he shook his head and dropped his hands to the side, probably because if he raised them again he'd probably strangle this guy and get kicked out faster than he could even stand up to run.

"I'm very well aware of that, thank you, Captain Obvious." Tony gestured around him. "But with all due respect to that sweet, divine and angelic voice, I need you to tell Seagull – "

"It's SIGYN."

"That evil _bitch _to re-program my phone because that's the only thing right now that has a fully-functional JARVIS that isn't inside my suit," Tony snapped.

Loki did not reply.

"Master, shall I inform Heimdall's security sector and SHIELD to fly Mr. Stark 2.0 to Uzbekistan and toss him into The Eternal Flame?"

SIGYN did instead.

"That won't be necessary, dear." Loki looked back towards Tony with perfunctory boredom, and God, Tony was really starting to hate this manipulative, slimy bastard's smiles. "I have this feeling he wouldn't ever shut up and die, even if his whole body blazed and burned with the fires of Hell."

At this point, Tony really didn't want to keep dealing with this crap. Considering what was at stake, though, this required a lot more willpower.

"You had no right to completely lock my phone, _my phone, _with _my AI _on it," Tony argued.

"And how does this justify your own actions?" Loki retorted. A dumbfounded scoff was made while he shook his head. "You say this as though you had every right to try and hack your way through the defenses I've built to protect what is mine. I would say this is more than fair play against foul play."

No, it wasn't, because Tony was stuck here in some other place that he really didn't want to be in while things were probably going down back in his New York, and if Loki had let him have access to one of these facilities in the first place he wouldn't have had to be forced to attack Loki's servers with a mobile device, no matter how state of the art the mobile device was.

So really, it was a mystery why Tony's mouth opened – and then closed as his eyebrows furrowed.

_Damn it._

At this, Loki chuckled dryly.

"Admit it, Anthony – you have stepped out of line, blinded by in your own vengeance-driven, foolish desires. Such is what renders your words dead upon your tongue."

He leaned forward just enough away from the table, green irises sharp as he drew his next words out as scathingly as he could.

"How does it feel knowing that you do not own this world, that you are just as grounded as we are to it?"

His back straightened, and he stood tall over the head of the loser.

Tony wished he could meet Loki's gaze head-on again, even if it was just to show how much resolve he still had – even if this was the inevitable outcome, no matter how hard he had fought. Even if it seemed like there was hope left for him, hope for JARVIS – hope to call Loki out on something, which probably was in itself hopeless since Loki seemed just as big of a dastardly mastermind as their Loki had been.

At least there he had _won. _

But here?

Tony lost. And Loki knew it.

He knew it damn well as he smirked.

"If you're quite done, I'll kindly ask you to leave before I have security escort you out, _forcibly."_

Screw it, maybe all the cards in the river haven't been dealt yet.

Tony blinked before he stared back up towards Loki. His posture slackened, and he found himself folding his arms as he lowered a brow questioningly in Loki's direction.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tony asked.

Loki smirked, amused that Tony was still drawing this out.

"Whatever do you mean, Stark?" he responded coolly.

Tony shrugged as he held a hand in front of him, gesturing towards the floor before Iron Poser.

"I mean exactly what I said: what do you think you're doing?"

Loki just looked at him like he was the densest idiot in the entire existence of everything. Like that wasn't a look Tony recognized from more people than the God of Horsecrap. Tony just groaned and muttered something under his breath, then hardened his gaze.

"Seriously. What are you trying to gain out of this? Did I – no, did that _poser _ruin your good days so much that you feel like you gotta take it out on me? Is this _just _me? Is it both of us or _what?" _He unfolded his arms and held them up._ "_I get it, I hurt your feelings and I hurt She-Gun's feelings, which either hurt your feelings more or, you know, even though you're a grown man...your _self-esteem."_

The laugh that left Loki's lips sounded just a smidgeon less smooth than it did before.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, actually, you _don't _beg my pardon," Tony corrected, raising a finger. He pointed it towards the Mark VII. "You never did ever since you decided that you'd just go ahead and fiddle around with my things without asking me first. And that's funny, come to think of it, because if you really didn't give a damn about my stuff, why would you still have it here instead of trash it completely as you pick it apart? Even then, that doesn't constitute 'not caring'."

Tony was pacing now, Loki watching him intently. The man with brown hair and brown eyes gave a long, intentional hum of profound thoughtfulness as he rubbed his chin with his hand.

"But back to why you're so set on making my life miserable when it already is. Not only do I think that's a huge jerk move – which is not surprising considering you were the biggest jerk I have ever met back where I'm from – I think it's been established that we don't really like each other very much. I mean, it seems like _you've_ made that clearer than crystal – unless you haven't cleaned your best glasses in years, in which case I say _why _and _you dumbass _dust them off, you want people to think you're ripping them off when you serve them poor whiskey and wine? Not that I don't appreciate a good burn down my throat every now and then but _why _do you go through so much effort just to make it clear that you don't like me when I don't like you? Unless..."

He suddenly stopped pacing, and with an exaggerated gasp snapped his fingers and whipped his body towards Loki as he pointed at him.

"Unless you _wan_t me to like you."

Loki _almost _looked taken aback. He guffawed.

"You flatter yourself too much, Stark," he responded, but Tony continued pacing.

"But why would you want me to just decide one day, hey, that Loki guy isn't so bad, rather than you saying hey, that Tony guy is a pretty cool guy, and asking me if we can be buds? Why _not_ just get security to put me in a time-out in the corner? Why make me open up to you over drinks about who I really was if I wasn't actually the guy you were looking for initially? Why go through all the trouble of taking my suit if you knew, and I'm going to call you out on this too, that SHIELD would agree to take me to you once I woke up from the tiniest coma in the world? Better yet, why the hell would you stop them from taking me away either the second time around?"

Tony halted again, and the stakes were as high as they could go at this point as the fifth card was dealt.

"Is it maybe because I might know something that you _don't?"_

Loki's face fell.

Tony smirked sardonically.

All-in, baby.

"Is that it?" Tony murmured, savouring this moment like good coffee_. _He stepped back on the desk's platform, face-to-face (as much as he could be at his height) with Loki. "That maybe, just maybe, I've got something awesome in my brain that maybe you want to just take a quick little peek at because you're fresh-out of good ideas?"

When Loki didn't say anything back, Tony's smirk grew into the most obnoxiously wide grin he could muster.

"Well, guess what, princess? You're not stealing _anything _from me – not my suit, not my AI, and especially not my mind." He tapped a finger against the arc reactor behind his shirt, listening to it clink. "A bunch of people have already tried, believe me, but it won't work. You can try to analyze me, coerce me, cheat off me, but let's be real: cheating will only get you so far because I think I've clearly won this hand."

And boom, there it was; that look of defeat as Loki's eyebrows knotted together, his jaw clenched and his hands balled clearly into fists at his side.

Oh, yes. This felt_ so_ fucking good.

Tony gave a sound of overblown, overacted sympathy as he batted his eyelashes at Loki.

"Aw, what's wrong, Buttercup? Cat got your tongue?" His shoulders straightened as he snickered. "You know, you talk big for a person who knows very little. And last time I checked, this wasn't how you were supposed to treat people you want answers from."

Loki's expression immediately darkened.

Which is why he wasn't _that_ surprised when Loki slammed his fist down on his desk and drew himself up to full height.

"_Enough,"_ Loki hissed. "In case you've forgotten, Anthony – "

"For God's sake, it's _Tony!_"

Loki glowered, bristling, and Tony simply jutted his chin out, daring him to make the next move, _any move, _because he was not losing now, not after he had tossed in all his chips.

Loki's breath was cool as the not-god exhaled through his teeth.

"In case you've forgotten, _Tony Stark – _you are _not_ welcome here," he sneered.

Well, _duh._

Tony just sneered right on back as if unfazed.

"Finally, one more thing we can add to the center of our Venn Diagram." He craned his neck to the side, eyes nearly crossing as they bore into Loki's. "But hey; so as long as I'm crashing the party, you're just gonna have to make room for one more guest."

With that, Tony turned sharply on his heel, stepped promptly off the platform, and made his way towards the doors without a second glance back.

And really, why would he bother to glance back anyway? Winners don't look behind; they look forward, because forward meant more victory and more success.

Wasn't it supposed to be like that?

"Master?"

The female AI's voice had spoken a minute after he had left. Loki flinched, as though he had lost his train of thought after he had watched the other Iron Man, even Tony had completely disappeared from Loki's sight.

Stark still lost, no matter what that insolent and preposterous fool thought. Loki still had locked down that man's phone completely, blocking off any access channels he had with his own artificial intelligence. Loki was the true victor. Loki was the one who had triumphed.

"Yes, SIGYN?"

"The lock is still in place in Mr. Stark 2.0's phone. He will be unable to gain access until it is granted back to him. The chances of him escaping or breaching the private and main networks are equivalent to 0.0% percent. Congratulations."

Loki did not feel merciful. Loki did not feel guilt. Loki did not show pity.

"Shall I inform you when Mr. Stark 2.0 is asleep, then?"

It was almost infuriating how well a program knew him regardless of him being the programmer.

"Yes," Loki responded quietly.

* * *

A basket.

That arrogant son of a bitch had actually arranged for a goddamn _basket_ to be delivered to his room. It rested right in-between the two green pillows, the handle wrapped in ribbon with flowers _(real _flowers) intertwined at the bow. Inside of it were rolled-up white washcloth towels, two bars of soap, a small thing of lotion, shampoo, and condition each – and a bottle of brandy.

A stylized post-it note complete with a letterhead (and most likely a watermark, no doubt) had been placed right below the bottle's neck on the foil-printed, brand-name label. After a good moment of bitter hesitation, Tony snatched the note right off it and read the handwriting.

_My condolences for your loss. ~ Loki_

This _asshole._

With great resolve in order to not hurl it right at the window (and follow it and its trailing ugly curtains on the way down), Tony picked up the basket and dropped it on the floor next to the bed. The brandy was probably poisoned anyway, no matter how tempting it was to have a drink or ten before he called it a night.

Was there room service? If the martini glass was gone and he had come back to his bed folded then there _had _to be room service which in a company building was ridiculous (despite Tony having a few here and there in his own tower but this was Loki, not him). Maybe he could call on a maid or a butler to take this crap away.

Tony could really use a butler right now.

Tossing his phone on the nightstand next to him, Tony threw off his shirt and pants, kicked off his shoes and socks, and left those on the floor with not a single damn to give for how much of a pig it made him look like as he climbed onto the mattress (swatting that _goddamn silk thing away _shit without it this wouldn't even be a canopy bed at all, it'd just be a bed within a box frame) and kicked the covers aside before he brought them over his body.

He stared at the ceiling.

He'd get JARVIS back one way or another, even if he had to wage a whole war on Loki at this point.

_Loki. _

Why did it matter what Green Eyes looked like when he had lost? It had felt great knocking him down a few pegs or too – it always did with Loki, ever since he had first met him in his penthouse and managed to successfully get on the god's nerves so badly he nearly died for it.

He remembered that incredibly pissed off face very well – and it was strange how it wasn't the malevolent, maniacal grin Loki had in nightmares here and there, because you'd think you'd have more memories of an expression so twisted and forged out of seven different types of anger, hate, and _denial._

What the hell? Where did that last one come from?

There was no chance that wide-eyed expression full of – ironically enough – ungodly levels of fury was anything close to denial. His grip had been tight enough to make Tony gag; it didn't matter if it had been shaking worse than an old washing machine because that was probably just rage. His flickering eyes and creased eyebrows did not look desperate at all, nope, no way. And that set of teeth that grit together as though he was really trying to prove a point –

Why did that even matter? That was the Evil Loki. Actually, in this case, the More Evil Loki because this Loki was definitely Evil too if he wanted to go up against the real version of the hero known as Iron Man and...

God _damn it._

He needed a drink. He needed sleep. One or the other. He needed _something._

He needed JARVIS.

He swore on his arc reactor that he would avenge JARVIS when he wasn't so drained and tired...

* * *

When he was _awake._

While memories of his dreams were currently offline and would probably (hopefully) stay that way, Tony was pretty sure he knew the reason as to why the sheets were drenched in sweat and why he was clutching at them with white knuckles.

He vaguely remembered the location this time being the lab, though (but how the hell? Was it floating in space or something? Wait, nope, not thinking about it). Whether or not Loki had been wearing all that black leather or a green shirt, waistcoat and tie wasn't clear (but again, not something he wanted to remember or even have on his mind).

Tony exhaled through his nostrils. He turned on his back, staring back up at the ceiling again. The room was still very dim, and the sun hadn't even come out (with these curtains, hard to tell), yet he was wide awake and he swore he could hear something beeping next to him.

Was that the StarkPhone, actually?

It was. Right. He had set an automatic power-on to it at 6:30 AM so he could go through with hacking SHIELD once he had succeeded in taking over Loki's servers.

So much for _that._

He sighed again and turned his back to the phone, staring in the direction of the window.

"Morning, JARVIS," he muttered wistfully.

And this would usually be the part where JARVIS would reply back.

"Good morning, sir."

Tony's eyes bulged open.

The nightstand was nearly knocked over when Tony's arms flailed for the phone. "You're kidding," Tony breathed, both sets of fingers gripping the small glass-based mobile device as he sat up.

The English-accented voice gave a trademark cursory response back.

"I wasn't aware I had made a joke."

Tony blinked.

"You're _back."_

"Yes, I am," JARVIS confirmed. "Did you miss me while I was gone, sir?"

The AI was answered with Tony firmly planting his puckered lips to the phone's screen, before he pulled back with a _pop. _

"I am uncertain if I should see that as an acceptable or sanitary way of confirming that."

Tony just gave an incredibly uplifted laugh, shaking his head with a brilliant smile.

"JARVIS, baby, don't _ever _let them take you away from me again." He grimaced. "Especially that son of a bitch and his equally as bitchy virtual girlfriend."

"Perhaps I should be most grateful that I was not programmed with Stockholm Syndrome then."

...hang on.

"I – "

_What?_

"Explain."

Because really, _what?_

JARVIS proceeded to explain himself before Tony could ask again.

"The lock on my programming was re-activated on the StarkPhone earlier at exactly 3:27 AM, and was set to re-connect to the Mark VII before the StarkPhone powered down at 3:30 AM."

Tony narrowed his eyes.

"But...but why?" The human scratched the back of his head. "And _how? _Did someone just barge into my damn room and deactivate the lock themselves? Pretty sure my phone would be offline if it was off. Why would Snowball even give the instructions to someone on how to turn it off anyway?"

No response.

"Perhaps you shouldn't think about it too hard; for your mental health," JARVIS suggested, dodging the question.

Tony's frown was deep and disturbed. He wasn't often okay when it came to ignoring something, even if it was bad for his mental health.

And yet.

"...you know what? On second thought, that's a good idea."

Without a moment's hesitation and some kind of strange elation of gratitude, Tony reached for the side of the bed, grabbed the bottle of brandy, popped it open and took a swig straight from the bottle.

Apple juice.

This _asshole._

* * *

The sleek, fluid sheen of gold and red with a touch of silver here and there, gleamed with only the slightest hints of blue and green. The glow of the last two colours bounced off the metal surfaces, spreading outwards over and across the vast room oft called dark and cold (one so dared to remark it was "eerie"; she was fired on the spot) by those who were not men like him.

But there were no men like him – no, he had been so certain that there weren't.

Yet here the business prodigy known as Loki Lawson stood in front of his monitors, one hand clasped behind his back and the other holding a petite, tiny tumbler of Three Olives Citrus (whether it was his first or his third was unimportant), standing in the center of the laboratory he had once thought was the most calming place he could ever be in – except now the atmosphere seemed far from calm when he finally allowed himself to breathe.

Green eyes bore into the titanium and gold alloy battle armour that Anthony Stark had crafted for himself – a near identical physical copy of his own battle armour, save for the colour palette and a few other things that he need focus on; those important details that required the utmost attention, lest he miss a crucial piece of this puzzle.

But the mere fact that this was a near identical physical copy of his own battle armour – a titanium and gold alloy battle armour that Anthony Stark had _not _crafted for himself but _another _Anthony Stark – was enough to throw his focus into sheer disarray.

His teeth ground into each other, and Loki scowled.

Fingernails dug into his palms, and the other hand grasped tightly around the glass. That was a fact far more difficult to process than the rather pleasing if not perplexing consequences of finally solving the Farbauti Code a few years ago; the mere fact this was enough to make Loki remember the Farbauti Code – not that he didn't already recall it every day in the first place. (In his defense, it wasn't the infuriating cryptogram itself he had to recall daily, but the results of decrypting said cryptogram as well as the security precautions he had based off it.) This was a fact that had no fruitful results for his own gain.

This was a fact that had even driven him to sneak into that man's room, kicking aside the clothes he had left on the floor with little regard (honestly, this man was probably no lazier and clean than a fat farm hog) and reset the parameters of that phone back to their settings before he had SIGYN interfere with them said more than he wanted to listen to.

He also had removed the carefully inputted bug that was programmed into the device even earlier than yesterday, deciding that one's right to privacy overshadowed any of SHIELD's priorities which required tactics of that level.

Placing the angled equivalent of a shot-glass down and stepping away from the desk (which was still damaged, no thanks to their Anthony Stark), Loki walked slowly towards the red and gold suit. The glass encasing it slid open for him as Loki reached towards the suit's helmet.

His hand touched, briefly grasping the curved but angular jaw of the helmet's face – not a mask but a face, as his own armour had a face known as Iron Man. His fingers trailed downwards from its weapon-hidden shoulders to the center of its chest, and he rested his whole palm against the circular glass.

Loki breathed again, and he wasn't entirely sure if he was but barely trembling or if it was simply paranoia and anxiety that he should _not _be having.

Once upon a time, there were no men like Loki Lawson, and he had been so certain that there weren't. Once upon a time – until he had seen this glass lit up and this armour fly towards him the first time he had met _this _Anthony Stark.

The only variable to isolate that would determine how much different this Anthony Stark was compared to Loki was whether or not that the power within this Anthony Stark's chest was – true to what the Lie-smith had said, ironically enough – giving more than it was apparently _taking away._

This was the only thought Loki was determined to bring his attention to, if not the armour, as he tried to push aside in his mind the flicker of crimson-tinted irises and a reckless, brilliantly white grin for the 99.0% exact visage of brown-hued, wide eyes and teeth clenched in vexation and amazement.

* * *

_So I really like this chapter just because we finally see Tony no longer on the passive and defensive against Loki and this alternate dimension, but now on the offensive and active. It appears to have earned Loki's respect (or at least Loki's attention), which opens the doors up to Tony making his mark separate from the mark Anthony has made.  
_

_Speaking of which, Egotistical Flash-Gimmicks Supervillain confirmed for next update. And to all of the people who really like him so far – yes, he will be in Sweetpea's vicinity. _

_Again, my gratitude to everyone who has read and reviewed! Thank you all!_


	10. No Men Like Him (Interlude)

**Full Tilt Divas**

**Rating: **T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff**  
Characters/Pairings: **This chapter will be Loki-centric. AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody, Regular!Tony Stark. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on. **  
Disclaimer: **Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns. **  
Notes: **Every now and then, this fic will have various fillers that tie in with the plot or provide a breather. Some will be chronological, some not, some will be amusing one-shots, and some will be flashbacks. This interlude falls into that last category in which Loki encountered Anthony - or rather, when Anthony started barging in uninvited.

* * *

There have been many within his company that have questioned where Lucas Lawson – young business prodigy and CEO of Infinity Industries – had obtained such a clean, sustainable and incredibly _mystifying _energy source. As a matter of fact, there have been many within his company itself that dared try to steal this energy source – and when that failed, mimic it long enough to take the real thing.

The mere fact that it could be mimicked was a dangerous sign and a signal that caution must be taken. To make matters the more worse, it was apparently far from a difficult process to replicate such a strange element.

Hypocritical, considering he was just a face amongst those select curious individuals.

(Hypocrisy was only human; flaw was human, he told himself constantly.)

But why should he be bitter that mankind at their core craved power and knowledge to such levels where they would tamper with things meant to be left untouched? Was it because he usually found himself caught in the crossfire – or better yet, targeted at the very center of it all? Lady Luck certainly seemed to think little of him during many of their courtships – or maybe she knew better of him than to be so kind in return.

There were moments that science refused to be probed at like a common albino lab rat, but Lucas Lawson never did know how to leave science as it is.

Come to think of it, none of the men in his family left science as it was.

He learned that the hard way as he remembered a smile so similar to his own, before he who owned it departed, greedy hands holding a blue and dripping in a red that both they shared.

Come to think of it, he didn't want to think of it.

Lucas, more famous to the public as Loki and the Iron Man, pursed his lips together tightly as he continued staring at the small, faintly glowing round, rough-cut stone resting within a three-pronged elevated support on his desk within the dark of his personal laboratory. He loosened the green tie around the neck of his black shirt with his right hand, before he bent down and leaned closer towards the crystal, lifting up the device in his left hand while doing so.

The device beeped and blipped, and Loki glanced momentarily to one of the floating screens he had next to the object he was currently analyzing. The radiation readings were erratic, dipping more than they rose. Frowning, Loki focused back on the crystal, watching its icy blue aura pulse weakly, physical appearance almost identical to frozen carbon dioxide as its strange gases leaked out and trailed to the floor.

A sigh, weary than it was disappointed, left Loki's mouth. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. At this rate, he estimated it would last no longer than another small blast out of one of the hand repulsors of Model IV's armour – and with these pesky and suspicious insect drones cluttering the skies and the streets of Manhattan, he could not afford to lose much more of this source of power.

Was it the suit itself? For reasons involving hostiles gallivanting about this part of the United States of America, Loki had to have everything from his personal armoury flown in from the mansion back in Malibu. He had remembered turning every knob at each source slot on the suit, and pulling out each rounded crystal he had left in each one before analyzing their power levels. From the Mark I (the replica, which he didn't like to talk about next to the original) to the Mark III, each one had drained these things at equal percentages of loss.

Really, he should have known better than to assume that this was how it was going to go. While he had managed to obtain such a clean, sustainable and incredibly _mystifying _energy source to study in accordance to using it as a means to boost a perfectly crafted, powered outer shell out of titanium and gold alloy – it was _far _from renewable as a resource.

The device he was holding suddenly let loose a long, sustained _beep, _and the graphs in front of him spiked, multiplying the crystal's original readings by more triple in percent.

Loki's eyes widened considerably and his jaw became slack. Had he finally found a way to recharge it?

"Darling," the man gasped, never glancing away from the crystal in front of him. "Please tell me that I've found something at last."

His female artificial intelligence – more human than computer, he liked to boast – responded rather belatedly.

"I _will_ tell you that you've found something at last, Master," the AI known as SIGYN answered. "But it might not be what you are looking for."

This did nothing to alleviate Loki's barely contained excitement as he whipped his head up impulsively. Did he _look _in a mood to solve riddles? He opened his mouth to reprimand the AI and threaten to re-program her with the charm and brilliance of a bubbly high school cheerleader – when the shadow of a figure across the lab caught his gaze.

Elation dissolved almost instantly as Loki's blood went cold. He took a deep breath before he spoke again.

"Lights, 70%."

The dark lab illuminated just enough to reveal the identity of said shadow – or rather, confirm that the shadow was indeed who Loki knew it was.

There, right before him, stood the man that dared call himself a god, who boasted how he was superior in every way yet looked no different from the human race –his dark, tousled and untamed hair tied back, his ears not pointed or missing like the sci-fi stereotype of intergalactic creatures, and the colour of oak within his irises (the only hint of abnormality being the red flecks within them that Loki had seen completely overtake the brown every now and then). His body – garbed in dark and bright hues of fire, leathers with straps and buckles, armour pieces in red and gold – probably looked just as human underneath all of that, but seeing as he had five fingers on his two hands, the need for such measures to confirm that was unnecessary.

The grooves and lines on his visage creased and moved in accordance with how human wrinkles worked when the higher being shot the billionaire a wide but pressed smile, crooked and cunning and a sure sign that this may not end in his favour.

"You certainly look happy to see me," the so-called god said, his voice lackadaisical and far too casual for comfort.

There was a moment's hesitation before Loki returned the expression, lifting his chin up assertively.

"I'm not quite sure 'happy' is the correct term," Loki replied. His own smile, a far cry from welcoming, quirked at a single corner. "But I will say it's quite relieving to have you where I can see you."

Here the god gasped, as though taken by pleasant surprise. He blinked (blinked, because gods do not bat their eyelashes; after all, how undignified would that be?) and rested a hand over his chest, fingers covering the light that spilled freely from a peculiar (most likely decorative) gem set on the gold chestpiece.

"Aww, I'm touched," this god did drawl. "As you probably have guessed, I _love_ putting on a show for the crowd, and I'm not a big fan of giving one for a lone individual because judging from whatever crawled up your ass and died, you'd think you weren't getting your gold's worth. But whaddaya know, look at that! I think that's the nicest thing you've _ever_ said to me."

Loki's laugh was curt and condescending.

"Don't get used to it," he responded icily. He stopped hunching over the crystal and stood, brow arched coyly and an unsympathetic smirk coming into light. "I will take this time to compliment your lips, though. _Such_ a shame your brother had to seal them shut; wouldn't you agree?"

The smile on the god's face soured considerably, scarred and pierced mouth becoming lopsided.

"Without a doubt," he retorted through clenched teeth.

Loki chuckled.

That's when he dropped the scanner down and reached forward – just as the god raised a finger.

"Oh, speaking of events that relate to the past; if you even _touch _that thing to shoot at me again, I'm sorry, but I'm going to make sure you _splatter_ when I hurl you off this tower's roof."

Loki's hand froze centimeters, only _centimeters, only _centimeters, away from the crystal.

Cursing softly under his breath, he levelled his gaze with the god's own. The Asgardian's expression was smug, becoming more so when Loki's arm slowly lowered away from the gem. He began to speak again, his words far too quick for a being that should not know how to speak such a fluent and common bastardization of the English language.

"Seriously, Lucas – it's Lucas, right? Yeah, I remember now, the Son of Law. The Hawk said 'Loki' but I'm really not gonna call you 'Loki' because you're a blasphemous moron for thinking you're entitled to use that name, but alright then, just checking. But seriously, no offering me drinks this time? Not that I'm here for that, but – "

"SIGYN?" Loki interjected.

This seemed to shut the god up and throw him off.

"Yes, Master?"

Actually,_ that _seemed to shut the god up as he startled even more. He glanced with rapt suspicion and curiosity, hands raised and tinted with an orange glow far too soft to convey how threatening it could be. Loki beckoned towards the god.

"How did you let this 'Anthony Stark' get in here?"

"There appears to have been a breach and an overwriting of security protocols, Master."

The god called Anthony looked back towards the other man in the room with a cocked brow.

"Sigyn?" Anthony repeated.

"SIGYN," Loki repeated back.

This appeared to answer nothing as Anthony's puzzlement grew, evident by the way he blinked and frowned cautiously.

His mouth moved to speak, but Loki spoke faster.

"And before you ask – no, that is not sorcery."

The mouth was closed only a brief second before Anthony rolled his eyes, jerking an arm upwards at the ceiling.

"Okay, so what is _it _then, Lawson – a wandering spirit?"

Here Loki allowed himself to smirk at a fraction.

"You could say that; a sentient, insightful girl you'll need. I like to think myself most lucky and utterly romanced when she's near."

The god snorted.

"Good luck keeping it that way."

Loki's expression hardened again.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded.

The god dared to shrug back at him in response.

"Back door."

It was Loki's turn to look puzzled and to echo.

"Back door?"

Anthony frowned again. He looked upwards to the left, hand halfway extended as though he had intentionally stopped it mid-gesture. Well, that appeared to be the case when his palm extended out and he met Loki's gaze again.

"Isn't that what you call it? You call it the 'back door', right? It's a term for..."

Then he stopped again. He clicked his tongue before rolling behind his teeth and against the roof of his mouth, humming in contemplation. Deciding it was not worth mulling over another second, his hand dropped with a slight groan of disappointment.

"Well, I'm gonna have to study that language a little bit more then, seeing as it's something spawned out of how you humans make your machines – "

That was when Loki realized what Anthony had meant.

His eyes bulged, and his chest puffed up. Never had he felt so cheated by fate, destiny, and things that were not in the least bit human than now.

"You _breached _my systems with _magic?" _Loki hissed.

"Not magic," Anthony quickly countered, raising a finger to correct the man – then thought better of it, simply shrugging again. "Well, okay, yeah, magic. But not really. Kind of, actually; I pretty much just spoke your machines' language and stepped right on in through an open door of opportunity without being detected."

He gave a short laugh before he licked his lips.

"It's a fascinating tongue, though, like _really _fascinating." Anthony stretched out his arms, grinning as though he was truly absorbing his surroundings of all the unfamiliar Earth technology about the lab. "If I had the capacity to memorize non-sentient languages, I would totally get on this. Just one question – how in all Hells does this machine know how to speak perfectly good English too if it's non-sentient?"

It was awfully tempting to point out how SIGYN certainly spoke better English than this fool of a mythological deity did.

"I don't need to tell you that," Loki answered back curtly.

Anthony gave a smirk.

"Then I don't need to tell you anything either, Man of Iron."

The Man of Iron was not amuse.

A key was pressed on one of Loki's keyboards, and the holographic screens vanished. He stepped off the elevated area within the room, walking slowly towards Anthony.

"Do not take me for a fool, Anthony Stark," Loki warned. He stopped only a few good feet away from the god just enough so that the crystal was still in arm's reach if he turned around._ "_As long as you're here, I demand answers."

This only prompted more laughter from Anthony as he threw back his head in disbelief.

"Demand? _Demand?_ Oh, look what we've got here. A little man playing the 'tough guy', are you?"

At this, Loki straightened himself at his full height, challenging Anthony's perception on which one of them was indeed the little man.

"I doubt it is I who is feigning bravado in this situation, Stark."

Anthony's feet lifted off the ground as he levitated enough so that they were eye-level. He stuck out his tongue childishly, and Loki glowered at him.

"Understand that while you may have learned black hat hacking in a day, I have learned how to execute it as well as repair it for _years_. I can overwrite the compromised code you implemented with the slightest wave of my hand. I can have SHIELD and the Avengers here with the quickest snap of my fingers."

"Except you're not," Anthony retorted.

"I can – "

"Except you're _not."_

"And will if you don't start talking – "

"And it's weird because you really should – "

"Then I won't hesitate to – "

"Unless you _don't_ actually want to," Anthony growled.

Any words that Loki was supposed summon forth died at the tip of his tongue as he halted abruptly. Anthony placed a hand on his chin as he hummed.

"Which brings up a really interesting question; why would you _not _want to summon your dysfunctional band pretending to be heroes?" He beamed brightly. "Is it because you've finally decided that I'm actually not that bad, incredibly charming, and worthy of being offered a drink again?"

The lightheartedness of his smile extinguished.

"Or maybe, is it maybe because I might know something that _you_ don't?"

Well...perhaps this god wasn't such a fool after all.

A dry chuckle was used to cover up any traces of guilt he may have displayed.

"And what possesses you to think that, Stark?" Loki inquired.

Anthony floated forward, and Loki did his best not to act on impulse and grab the crystal behind him when the god craned his neck forward.

"Because you're _not _doing anything," he sneered. "And the only thing you're doing right now that explains why you're not doing anything is that you're demanding answersthat you know are answers only I have."

Loki's breath hitched.

No. He would say nothing. He _refused _to say anything.

The god grinned wickedly.

"Is that it?" Anthony murmured, confidence spilling out of his lips in the form of his testing drawl. He leaned closer to the human, brown eyes shifting to red gradually as they stared straight into Loki's viridian irises. "That maybe, just maybe, I've got something you absolutely just have to get your hands on?"

His gaze became half-lidded, and this was when Loki knew he needed to say something back.

"Do you even have the capability to stop talking, _godling?" _he snapped.

That seemed to do the trick as Anthony's smirk reversed its vertical positioning.

"No. Do you even have the capability to stop being a brat, _mortal?" _he leered.

It was then that Loki's patience dipped dramatically as he snarled and lunged forward without warning.

Anthony's eyes widened as hands slammed forward into his chest, gripping the lapels and forcibly shoving him back against the nearest wall. He grunted upon impact, looking up at the black-haired man baring his teeth down at him, and Loki was briefly reminded of a cat stalking its prey.

The deity genuinely looked taken aback – but briefly before he snickered.

"I'm getting the feeling you don't really learn your lesson the first time around, and trust me for a second here – which is asking for a lot, I know, my ledger for sincerity isn't something I'm proud of either. Well, no, that's not true, I just possess a huge lack of absolute regard for that matter."

His hand shot up in the blink of an eye, fingers gripped around Loki's right wrist.

"Just believe me when I tell you..."

His mischievous smile transformed into a vicious, heated glare, and Anthony _squeezed._

Loki bit back a pained yelp, hissing instead as he attempted to free his arm away from the vicelike, calloused grip that threatened to do more than cut off oxygen flow towards his hand and potentially break a vein. As a matter of fact – it _burned._

Anthony released him after that dreadful second, sending Loki staggering back. The god tilted his chin up as his feet left the floor once more, glaring downwards at the human, and spoke in a low, barely restrained hiss.

"That you _don't _want to do that."

Loki seethed, glaring back towards Anthony just as venomously. He gripped his wrist, still feeling the tingling sensation of burning from only moments ago. Anthony's gaze narrowed again, and he flashed teeth humorously towards Loki again.

"So, now that we've gotten that out of the way, what do you want me to do, Lucas Lawson?"

Loki kept his glare as his chest heaved and his nostrils flared.

"I insist you call me Loki."

"And I insist I don't. Again, like I said, that won't do any of us any good – unless you're not human and you're from the giants' outlands." A scornful scoff. "You'd probably be dead by now if you were. Just saying."

Loki groaned impatiently. Anthony rolled his eyes.

"What do you want me to do, _Lawson?" _

The green-eyed man looked nonplussed. It was a start, nonetheless.

"Tell me what I want," he said.

If that godling lifted that brow like that at him _one more goddamn time..._

"That's a little more than redundant, don't you think?"

"Tell me what I _want."_

"See, I've got a lot of magic up my sleeve, as you say, but mind-reading isn't one of those things. And I really don't want to be wrong on guessing what it is you greatly desire so – "

"Tell me what I want to _know!" _ Loki shouted.

"About _what?" _

That's when Loki whipped his body to the side, throwing his right arm behind him.

Anthony's eyes steeled, and his arms shot up towards the mortal instinctively, sparks crackling in the extended palms of his hands.

Fingers just barely touching the crystal again, Loki straightened his posture and turned his wrist so that he simply gestured at it.

"These _stones."_

The red in the Asgardian's eyes dulled, and the sparks subsided as he curled his fingers back into his palm. Loki continued on.

"Tell me what you know about the stones, these crystals that contain energy more efficient and bountiful than any man-made power source on Earth. Simply because I happened upon them in Canada under Russian siege within a mountain does not make me blind to its very alien aura. It's not from here." He frowned. "Does it hail from Asgard?"

Anthony snorted.

"Far away from it, honey."

A shame Anthony's hands could light up faster than the Fourth of July the moment he even saw Loki's hand twitch towards the crystal.

"Ah ah, control yourself, please! You should really learn how to 'cool out'. Is it 'cool out'? I feel like I got that wrong, pretty sure I – "

"Then where does it come from?" Loki interrupted irately.

"If you said you found it in a damn cave, then – hold on, listen carefully to this, it's important – maybe it came from the damn cave."

"We both know that is not the case." Loki's expression softened as he brought forth a smile as genuine as pyrite was to gold. "Will you not enlighten me, God of Chaos, Calamity, and Flash Gimmicks?"

Anthony shot the expression right back at him.

"Only if I get some answers too."

Loki stretched the limits of his patience with the limits of how wide his faux grin could be.

"What is it that you'd want from a mere mortal like myself?"

"Muffin, there's a good number of things I'd want from you, believe it or not."

The limits were not stretchable enough to accommodate this infuriating man, it would seem.

Anthony's remained strong and genuinely snide, and Loki was rather certain his hand was going to start shaking if this blasted crystal did not find its way into his hand soon. Loki breathed heavily; he had not felt so uncertain around this god since – well, actually, there have been many times he had felt uncertain and uneasy around this arrogant fool, and each time had not gone as planned: the penthouse, Central Park...

"Okay, me first if you're not gonna speak up now: what on Midgard is a muffin?"

A very important memory surfaced, and Loki blinked.

Perhaps this battle of sarcastic wit and whine was not yet over.

"Who are you working with?" Loki demanded.

Anthony tensed visibly.

_Perfect._

"Hey, no fair, you missed your turn! Just a second – "

"Had _they_ not interfered at Central Park, you would be facing the wrath of Asgardian's justice under the watchful eyes of your father – _All-_Father, sorry, how insensitive of me," he deadpanned when he caught a few sparks jumping out of one of a very grim-faced Anthony's fingers. He raised his chin. "Each and every one of us saw to it that you were bound by the hands of another god; he who claims you as brother. That technology was of Asgard's, not of ours. Those were the only things that could silence you, the only things that could _stop _you and restrain your magic."

This is where Loki's withering glare came back in full force.

"The weapon he had – that had power that would be able to whisk you both away. That also had the power to _break your chains."_

Anthony smirked, clearly relishing this.

"Only diamond can cut diamond," Loki resumed onwards, tone quiet if not skeptical. He looked away and began to pace, hands grasped together behind him so that Anthony would not dare singe him to ashes in suspicion. "The moment you severed the shackles, you were gone because your magic had returned. But the explosions from before, as well as those insect-like droids, were not a product of magic because we could severe them with our technology."

He stopped pacing and glanced back to Anthony.

"You're working under somebody," Loki accused.

Anthony guffawed, tilting his head back with a scandalized look.

"Please, I'm offended that you think so lowly of me." He scowled. "I'm not working _under _anybody. If I did have an accomplice, they'd probably be working for me. Hey, I've got great leadership skills, contrary to what anyone says."

Loki almost laughed.

"So I'm to believe the god most infamous for dishonesty?" he scoffed.

Anthony's scowl deepened before it flipped again in his favour.

"Big words for a man who wants that god to tell him things he doesn't know."

_Bastard._

Loki gave an exasperated sigh.

"If you want the ring, then I don't have it. It's in SHIELD's custody, not mine, and I am not willing to waste time – rather, risk – breaching their systems for your sake. You've learned how to do so already, so I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem for you being the intrusive bastard you are."

He gestured back towards the crystal.

"If you want these, then I'm afraid that's not on the table for bargain. They are mine and mine alone; am not a man who enjoys sharing, and I am not a man who enjoys others laying fingers on my possessions."

He spread his arms out at his sides, a challenge more than anything.

"If you want _me, _then you are at a loss." His eyes narrowed. "I've said it once and I will say it again: I will _never _bow."

It seemed for just a moment that his words had reached, even _touched_ Anthony. The way he blinked contemplatively, the way he craned his head towards Loki, as though wondering and processing just how this mortal fought against him so.

For _just_ a moment.

His tongue clicked again, and Anthony chuckled quietly.

"Hard to get, aren't you, daisy?" he taunted.

Loki sneered back, arms still outstretched.

"Oh, _yes," _Loki seethed. "I mean to stand against you, godling – not fall to my knees for you."

"What if that was the only way I'd tell you about the crystals?"

"Then, I continue living in ignorance."

Anthony cackled.

"Are you really comfortable with that, Lawson?" Then, Anthony's feet were on the ground, and the god was walking slowly towards him, lips curling in...disgust? Contempt? "Because something tells me you're not, but I'm not sure what I'm supposed to think about your people since they are_ really_ dead set on that way of life – living in ignorance. You have an adage on it too; how it's so much more blissful to not have any idea what's happening around you just because you've got it good. That..._sickens me _like the Norns don't even know."

Anthony shook his head, throwing up his hands dismissively.

"People here – Norns be damned, people _anywhere _but just _especially _here – are actually, legitimately content enough to accept being _idiots. _How can you live with yourselves not being blessed by the fruits of knowledge?"

Something about this conversation felt far from comfortable.

"Those were not blessings."

"In the beginning of everything not from the World Tree's branches – sure, technically they weren't. But this isn't the beginning of everything, Iron Man."

Anthony snapped his fingers.

Loki witnessed every monitor, every holographic extension to each monitor, every built-in HUD and light in his lab come back to life, obeying not their own creator but someone who didn't even _need _to say anything to make them do so. Anthony flicked aside a screen in front of him and blew away another towards Loki's face, who swatted it away irritably.

"We're in a new era," Anthony went on, taking another step forward. "Where your kind keeps getting this itch they need to scratch every time they discover something 'new' or profound. And then they go ahead and touch it even though they probably shouldn't touch it or aren't supposed to touch it and then things get complicated. Question is, why? Why do you humans do that?"

The god's expression blackened.

"Because they _keep _asking 'why' and 'how' when their minds are way too narrow and cluttered with garbage to even _begin _this incredibly rough concept you hold called 'revolutionary'," he spat. "So, wars start, blood is shed, jealousy rouses, and conspiracy rises. I swear on the Nine, you guys just cannot go a day without having to take a life just so you can take material. Of course, you know, you can't accept that you all royally – what is it, starts with a _ffh_. Oh, right – _fucked _up. Instead, you try and touch even more things and poke and prod and push and shove until you made something out of it to fix the former problem...except now you've got a bigger problem."

He stopped right in front of Loki again.

"You run forward so damn fast that you don't even realize how lost you really are," Anthony snarled.

Loki refused to waver, raising his chin defiantly and taking a step to the Asgardian's side.

"Such is technology," he retorted. "I hear they are one and the same back in Asgard. That would explain the nature of the stones."

"I already told you, they aren't Asgardian."

"But they are of a nature you recognize, a nature foreign to this realm and a nature not foreign to your vision."

And here, Loki actually sighed, hesitantly letting his arms fall to his sides. He cared not for how bitter he may have sounded as he spoke again.

"You know of their true powers, the ones left untapped. You know what they can really do, do you not?"

Anthony, as expected, was taking a satisfaction so sweet and sadistic from this that Loki ought to slam his head into the desk if he could.

"Oh, absolutely."

Anthony, as not expected, shifted his eyes behind Loki – towards the four Iron Man suits lined up behind their glass cases.

"The only thing I don't know about is how your metals can _use _even a fraction of that power," he muttered.

Loki's eyebrows furrowed.

"But other than that..."

"Other than _that?" _Loki exhaled sharply, patience finally at its limits. "Other than that indeed. How do I know that you aren't lying to me, Blacksmith of Lies? How can I _trust _that your word is worth believing?"

As if on cue, Anthony took a few steps back, this distance asking for no relief, and flashed his teeth in a smile so brilliant it was a terrible omen.

"Well, that's just it, sweetpea," he murmured. "You _don't."_

The god clicked his tongue once more and winked – right before he vanished in a burst of flames, hot air blasting into Loki and reeling him backwards into the desk with a yelp.

The man groaned as pain riveted throughout his lower body, knees buckling immediately. Supporting himself with one arm in order to not collapse while grasping the aching part of his body behind him, he glared fiercely where the floor was singed just a few feet away from him.

"Master?"

At least the deity had enough mercy within his black-hearted soul to spare his equipment and facilities. For now.

"Yes, SIGYN?"

His voice came out strained, refraining from snapping lest he ended up venting violently, risking the valuable (and very, _very _pricey) equipment he treasured so.

"Shall I delete all security footage containing Anthony Stark?"

He was about to open his mouth to question as to why she even had to ask – before that was swiftly replaced by a sudden jolt of realization.

"No," Loki exclaimed hoarsely, eyes wide. They returned to normal size as he stood up slowly, focus still fastened towards the spot where Anthony had been standing at. "No. Not as of right now."

As though she was processing why he would say such a thing in such a dire situation, SIGYN paused momentarily.

"Then shall I inform SHIELD the details of Anthony Stark's arrival?" she suggested instead.

"None of that yet, none of any of that," Loki responded, storming straight over to where his suits were. Determination coursed through his veins like adrenaline. "New file, secure it and password it; hide it as well as you can and put the surveillance footage within there."

Yes. Anthony had a point about the suit. Loki had made sure to study and run as many tests as he could before he was certain it could contain and channel the energy of those crystals within the armour's sleek, fluid frame. But perhaps Loki did not study enough. Perhaps more tests needed to be made.

A shame that these goals in his genius mind were shoved aside by this aggravating _godling_ – a man who held secrets beyond the worth of platinum which Loki knew not and Anthony told not.

There were no men like Lucas Lawson. If that was a lie, then he had done a great job convincing himself that this was not simply stroking his own ego. There were people who were close, but they were not like him. Victor was close. Thor was close. Even his father – a man more genius than he would dare admit begrudgingly – was close.

To even _think _of wondering if a man like Anthony was anywhere close to him was a taboo. No, he would not entertain this thought. As a matter of fact, if he had two choices of that, or having dropped into his eyes a liquid so hot and volatile it refused to blind him when he prayed his sense of sight would just die.

Eyes that were pried open and a mouth that was gagged closed.

Forced on his knees, bound to the point where the ropes dig into his wrists and ankles, within a dark cavern he knew where not as a furious man spitting blood and saliva yanked his hair forward and bellowed in his ears to _solve this code or else you will end up wishing on your wasted life for something as sweet as _ –

"What would you like to label this file as, sir?"

Loki stiffened, and he remembered to exhale at that moment.

He turned around again and walked back to the weakly pulsating problem he should place at top priority.

Yes, Loki was 100% certain that there were also no men – nobody so brash and conceited who babbled relentlessly about nothing and everything all in that one second he would speak – like Anthony Stark out there in existence.

"Filename: Egotistical Flash-Gimmicks Supervillain."

No men whatsoever.

* * *

_Alternate chapter title: Frostirony.  
_

_With everyone in school now (myself included), I was wondering if I should move the weekly/bi-weekly update schedule from **Wednesday** to **Saturday or Sunday** instead. What do you guys think? _ _As always, thank you for reading, reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated, and I'm glad you're all enjoying it!_


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